Charged Particles
by Arallute
Summary: Rey and Poe get to know each other much better after being marooned, and slowly fall in love. Damerey, but more romance than smut.
1. Nobody sang on Jakku

" **Charged Particles"**

 **34 ABY**

The good news was that Poe Dameron and Rey were excellent pilots, so they'd managed to land the little shuttlecraft safely, albeit in a few pieces. The bad news was that an electromagnetic pulse had fried every electrical system on the shuttle, rendering it inoperable.

"I think it was a CME," Poe said glumly from the cockpit of the now-shattered little ship.

"A what?" Rey asked, getting a kit together and throwing it into a backpack.

He stood up and began organizing his own pack. "A coronal mass ejection. A solar flare that hits the planet's pole…or the ship closest to it. We just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." Lightning flashed constantly in the sky, angry clouds talking to each other with electricity.

He flipped on the comlink. "Black leader to _Saber-Cat?"_ He hailed them a few times before giving up and pocketing the comlink. To Rey, he said, "Why don't we get some distance between us and this lightning storm, and then try them again? They won't be able to read us here with all the interference. And if they try to land, another pulse might get them too. So they're not gonna land here."

* * *

Poe and Rey started walking south through the jungle, periodically stopping to try hailing the orbiting _Saber-Cat_. It was strange, just the two of them together. Usually, Finn was around as a buffer—Finn talked more than his two friends put together, and he was the common link between them. Poe and Rey had flown and fought together on a few missions, but they seemed to have little in common besides a passion for flying, admiration for General Organa, and an affection for BB-8. Things were still a little awkward when Finn was absent. After a couple of false starts, though, they'd managed to relax with each other, and were now keeping a cheerful conversation going.

After an hour or so, they concluded they were far enough away from the lightning storm for a rescue shuttle to land, so they set up a little camp and sat on a log, talking. By evening, Rey's head was swimming with new stories. Poe's vivid tales of a childhood spent in the lush jungles of Yavin IV, a jungle like the one she was currently traversing, inspired her. He was lucky enough to have grown up with freedom: freedom to get an education, to fly whenever and wherever he wanted, to choose his hobbies and to explore his surroundings. Freedom to be creative, to relax. Everyone she'd met in the Resistance took these freedoms for granted. Rey's own childhood had lacked all of those intangibles, yet she was neither jealous of nor resentful of Poe. He wasn't telling her those stories to make her sad—it just didn't occur to him that such freedoms weren't always predestined.

Poe was just like his homeworld: brimming with life and energy, unflaggingly warm, revitalizing, easily accessible. His Force presence appeared as a soothing orange hue to Rey. It was easiest for her to associate people's Force signatures with colors, and Poe was a deep orange. Like sand at sunset. Like the comforting campfire he'd just made. There was nothing deceptive about him; what you saw was what you got, and Rey appreciated his friendly honesty. He felt trustworthy. And she knew he liked her; he'd been smiling warmly at her all afternoon. So she opened up to him, comparing his childhood with her life on Jakku, describing her training with Master Luke, even admitting her doubts about fulfilling her potential as a Jedi.

"It's getting dark too quickly," Poe commented, interrupting their conversation. "Looks like a storm is coming. Maybe we should get under shelter?"

Rey looked around doubtfully. Nothing around but tall trees, hanging vines, soft mossy ground. No shelter at all. "Did you bring a tent?"

Poe managed not to look smug. "Of course." He pulled a collapsible tent out. "I won all sorts of ribbons and badges for scouting when I was a kid."

"Oh," Rey said, eyes wide with feigned admiration. "We're in good hands, then."

"Absolutely," he replied with a grin. "And we've got the best tent that Republic Army Surplus has to offer. It's probably no more than a decade old." After inspecting the worn bundle critically, he added, "Okay, maybe two decades. Definitely Republic, though. It's not from the Rebellion days."

"That's something."

Rey tried to help set up the old brown tent, though she had no idea what she was doing. It was quickly determined that she was just slowing down the progress, and since rain was looking increasingly likely, she decided just to sit down on the ground and let her friend work. He whistled a cheerful melody. She watched him, charmed. "Does that song have any words?" she asked him.

"Sure. It's an old ballad my mom used to sing when she was happy. It's got, I don't know, ten or twenty verses." Poe paused, reflecting. He missed his mother at unspectacular moments, like now, and sudden pain stabbed at his heart. He stifled his sadness and concentrated on putting Rey at ease. He sang the ballad in a bright tenor voice, surprised at how effortlessly he remembered the words. The lyrics were from the point of view of a young man who left home on a sailing ship to explore his world. He sang plaintively about all he'd left behind: his girlfriend, his buddies, the gentle beauty of his home. Poe had made it through four verses before she spoke again.

"Nobody sings on Jakku."

He stopped his crooning and tent construction to look at her. "Really? Why not?"

She shrugged. "Nobody has musical instruments. They're not practical. And there's not much to sing about. Besides, singing dries out your throat."

"Music is an essential part of human culture."

She gave him a crooked smile. "You sound like a Jedi master."

Poe wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a criticism. Before he could ask her, though, the heavens opened up and rain attacked them. Rey yelped, grabbed the backpacks, and scurried into the tent, not caring whether it was ready or not. Poe spent a few more minutes making sure the tarp was well anchored to the ground before joining her. He took off his soaked jacket and shirt.

"Hope you don't, uh, mind."

Rey looked everywhere but his bare chest. "Oh, no," she said as normally as possible. She unrolled her thin sleeping bag and hastily crawled inside. Then she snuck a peek at his chest. And another.

Poe unrolled his own sleepsack, then dug into the backpack again. "Hungry? I brought rations along."

It hadn't occurred to her to bring food; it was supposed to be just a short hike until the orbiting ship could find them. "Sure, I could eat. What else did you bring along? Chewbacca's bowcaster? Board games? A portable X-Wing?" She smiled hopefully. "An X-wing would really come in handy."

Poe made a show of searching the tent. "Nope," he said sadly. "Not even sabaac cards. Got a comlink, though." He flipped it on. "Black Leader to _Saber-Cat._ Do you read?" Only static answered, as it had all afternoon. He shrugged, dropped the comlink, and ripped open two packages of rations.

While they ate, he scrutinized her. He had always liked Rey, though he would have been intimidated by her if not for Finn. His first impression of her had been of a mysterious Force-sensitive that came out of nowhere. General Organa, normally cautious, had trusted her without reservations and sent her off to train as a Jedi. It was only after she left D'Qar that Finn had told him about her sweetness, her humor and beauty. So even before really getting to know her, Rey had shifted, in his mind, from a sanctified hero into a desirable woman. After she returned with Luke Skywalker, Poe and Rey had developed a friendship and (he hoped) a mutual admiration for each other. Thus his image of her had shifted again, from a pretty woman into a trustworthy friend, as well as a great pilot. They'd gone flying in his X-wing twice—great fun—and she'd taken him up in the famous _Millennium Falcon_ and shown off the abilities of the YT-1300. Since that day, he'd considered her his equal as a pilot. Nobody could fly that old pirate ship like she could.

And yet Poe felt that something had changed in their relationship today. Their previous conversations usually centered on ships or piloting. Or they just let Finn ramble on; his boyish enthusiasm for everything tended to overshadow both Poe and Rey. He wasn't used to sharing anything personal, let alone intimate, with her, but today he felt compelled to tell her his whole life story. He wanted her to know him. Poe wasn't sure why this urge had suddenly developed, or why she was now so overwhelmingly beautiful to him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to analyze it too closely. Better to just eat his ration packet and curl up in his sleeping bag.


	2. Thunderstorms and Ionized Air

Thunder woke Poe up. At least the tent is still dry, he thought drowsily. But the storm had gotten worse, and sounded close by. When lightning struck, Poe glanced at his companion's face. She was awake, staring at the top of the tent. Nervous. Maybe more than nervous. Was Rey actually scared? He'd never seen her scared.

"Hey, you all right?" he asked her.

She didn't move. "No."

"Don't like thunderstorms?" He adjusted his pillow and put an elbow under it, to face her. He reached his hand out and tentatively laid it on her belly. She let him.

Another bolt of lightning hit nearby, and he felt her abdominal muscles clench. Her shoulders were so tight, they were almost touching her ears. "Is that what this is? I've never seen a thunderstorm before."

Poe considered that. "Not much rain on Jakku, I guess. Well, this is nothing to worry about. It's just electricity."

Rey looked over at him. "Millions of volts of electricity. Enough to kill us. Enough to rip the tent apart. Enough to—"

"It'll be fine," Poe said gently. "Your chance of getting struck by lightning is really very small."

Her eyebrows went up. "There's a chance?"

He spoke quickly. "No, no, not really. A very small chance. Very small. Miniscule."

Thunder shook the ground. "What is that?" she whimpered.

 _A calm, rational approach. That'll calm her._ He mimicked the voice of Mr. Geller, his favorite science teacher. "Clouds can develop an electrical charge, either positive or negative, and that charge builds up until eventually it's released and finds an opposite charge, in either another cloud or on the ground, which seems to be the case here. And so the air between the two objects gets ionized, you know, charged, and that's what makes the lightning. Now, if it's a cloud-to-ground bolt, it'll—"

Rey covered his mouth with hers and kissed him. Right in the middle of a sentence. She wrapped her arms around his strong back, leaned into him, and just kissed him. She needed this, she realized. His warmth, his touch. She had felt something building up in her all day, but only now did she understand that _this_ is what she had been craving. Her lips parted, bringing him even closer to her. Her hands gripped his biceps recklessly, desperately, gratefully.

Finally out of breath, Poe broke the kiss and stared in shock at her. For a moment, they were both speechless. Then his brain started working again, and he stammered, "Do you want me to talk more about science? 'Cause I explain more science. If you like science."

She smiled shyly. "No, I think I got it. Ions."

"Charged air particles."

"Yeah, they certainly are." She bit her lip and looked at him uncertainly, gauging his thoughts, trying to decide whether that kiss had been a good idea or if she had just humiliated herself.

Poe met her gaze, unflinching, and thought furiously. Should he continue or cut this off? This would be the right moment to back out. It was his choice to make, but it really wasn't a difficult one; if that kiss was any sort of predictor, they were going to be a great match. They just seemed to 'fit' together. _It's a go, Black Leader._ His hands moved to cradle her face as he bent forward to kiss her. The pulse at her throat thrummed against his fingers. He left one hand on her cheek, letting the other one slide down to caress her back. Her body trembled and her back arched in response. She moved out of her sleeping bag to shift closer to Poe. She wanted to explore him—his face, his thick hair, his still-bare back and chest—first with her hands, then with her mouth. Rey's brazenness surprised her even more than him.

Poe could hardly believe his luck. He'd always found Rey attractive, of course, but he'd mostly written her off as unattainable. Until tonight. Tonight, she was warm and alive before him. Her passion was raw and breathtaking and completely unexpected.

He kept up with her.

The now-forgotten thunderstorm rolled slowly by, as Poe and Rey made love.

* * *

"Are we going to break Finn's heart?" he whispered. "He has a huge crush on you."

"You're thinking about _Finn?"_ She paused. "He's very special to me. I love him like a brother. I've just never…thought of him…in that way."

"So he's never kissed you?"

Rey tilted her head to the side. "Nobody's ever kissed me. I mean, until today."

His breath caught somewhere in his throat. "Oh," was all he could think of. He nuzzled her neck. After a moment, he added, "You're a really good kisser. You're…well, you're good at everything you do. Except putting tents together."

She matched his smirk with her own. Her expression turned thoughtful, and she whispered, "I'm sorry, though. I know you're probably used to, you know. Something better."

"Better at what?"

"Better…women." He knitted his brow. She tried again. "Women who are better at this than I am. I'm not very...I mean, I really don't even know if I…if you…if _this_ was any good."

Poe shushed her softly. _This is going to be a very long night,_ he thought. He trailed kisses from her ear to her shoulder. "What am I'm 'used to' is spending twenty minutes, tops, with a girl, while trying to remember her name and simultaneously thinking of a graceful excuse to get out of her quarters as soon as we're done. This, though—" He shook his head. "This is different. And it's much better. Nobody's better."

Placated, Rey ran her fingers through his hair and brought his mouth back to hers. "So you're not thinking of excuses to leave the tent?"

"Nah," he smiled. "It's still raining. And I'd probably be eaten by a monster. And it's much warmer in this sleeping bag than out there."

"Best sleeping bag that Republic Army Surplus has to offer."

"With the best officer in it."

She smiled widely. "Is that you or me?"

He gave her his most self-confident grin. "Me, of course." He winked at her.

His cockiness reminded her of someone, but she was too distracted to think clearly about it right now. Instead, she snuggled against him. "Of course."

"Are you warm enough?" Without waiting for an answer, he wrapped the blanket more tightly around them.

"Better now," she said with a yawn.

"We should sleep."

"No, I'm not tired," she protested, even though it was easily two in the morning. "I'm wide awake, actually. I feel all sparkly."

"Sparkly?" Poe echoed, enchanted by her word choice.

"Yeah, like that stuff you're always drinking. Sparkling water, the kind with the bubbles."

He smiled into the darkness. "Okay, Sparkle."

"So, then." She nudged him. "If we're not tired, teach me something."

"Teach you…?"

She coiled herself around him. "Teach me more," she whispered.


	3. He had her, then he lost her

"But you probably didn't think it would be Darth Vader," Rey said, as if answering a question.

Half-asleep, Poe opened one eye and squinted at her. "Huh?" Getting no response, Poe opened the other eye and looked her over. _She's out cold. Just talking in her sleep,_ he realized. He lifted a hand to stroke her face. In repose, she looked content and even younger than her twenty years.

"She's nothing like her father," Rey offered.

Poe smiled. "Okay, baby." It was early morning, and for a brief moment he considered getting up, checking his comlink, finishing the mission. Staying in a sleeping bag wrapped around her sounded like a much better plan, though. Besides, she might disclose something interesting in her sleep. Something about him, maybe.

"My real name is Breha."

 _Funny thing to say, even in a dream,_ he thought. But her warmth was so alluring, he couldn't focus on much else. He kissed her softly. "Hey, Breha, you want to wake up?"

She murmured something unintelligible and rolled onto her belly. Her well-muscled back, as irresistible as gravity, pulled Poe towards it. He kissed her shoulders, kneading her back and arms with slow, deep strokes. "We should probably get up soon," he said very softly, hoping she didn't respond.

She moaned something resembling "Uh-huh." She let him rub her back for a few more minutes before adding "Good morning" coherently.

He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Hi. When was the last time anyone gave you a massage? Your knots are growing knots."

"Gave me a…what?"

"A massage."

"Is that what you're doing?" Rey hated to feel ignorant about so many topics that everyone in the Resistance took for granted, but she really had had very little human contact on Jakku. Nowadays, she mostly pretended to understand what was going on around her, but with Poe, as with Finn, she hoped she could be honest about her inexperience. "I've never gotten a massage, but I like it." She twisted her head to look up at him, and smiled. "Feels great."

Her smile was even more alluring to Poe than her back was. He lowered himself against her to kiss her lips, then rolled her over so she was facing him. "Roger that, then. I guess we're not getting up yet."

"What about round four?" Rey inquired between kisses. "I think you promised me round four."

"Aren't we on round three?"

"No, four. Well, four for me, maybe three for you."

Poe laughed shortly and shook his head. "Those are _really_ good statistics, you know."

"About average?" Rey asked innocently.

He stared at her. "No," he said flatly. "One. That's average. Once. Maybe twice, on a really good night."

She grinned mischievously. "Oh. Well, _this_ is normal for me, so we're going to have carry on like this every night."

"I may have set the bar unreasonably high," he said dryly.

She giggled. "Maybe we can compromise. But not now. I'm not in a compromising mood right now."

"Just what kind of mood are you in?" he said into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.

She beamed at him. "You know. A sparkly mood."

* * *

"I can feel you," she breathed, with wonder in her eyes.

He snorted. "Well, I certainly hope so."

"No, I mean, I can sense you. In the Force. It's like a switch just turned on inside me. I know what you're feeling." Rey felt a wave wash over her—but the wave didn't recede, and instead stayed with her. It was like new data had just uploaded into her computer core. She knew what _she_ was thinking and feeling, but suddenly she could access _his_ emotions as well. And one of the things he was now feeling, she realized, was apprehension.

She pulled away slightly. "What's wrong? You're worried about something."

"No, no," he assured her, his hands and mouth still busy scouting over her body.

She grabbed his hands and held them, staring into his eyes. "Poe, don't keep things from me. What are you thinking about?"

He met her stare with his own. "Don't read my mind," he whispered.

"I can't," she murmured back. "I can sense your emotions, that's all."

"That's a lot." He paused. "Don't do that."

Rey furrowed her brow. "But it makes me feel…very connected to you. I like it." She smiled teasingly. "You _really_ like me. Lust is a very powerful emotion. It's turned you from orange into red."

"Huh?"

"I see people's Force auras as colors, sort of. You're a rich orange, usually. You turned dark red last night."

Now it was his turn to smile mischievously. "I'm still a little bit 'red' for you."

"Yeah, a little," she smirked. Then she turned serious. "What scared you?"

Poe looked away. "Kylo Ren read my mind when he captured me. Invaded my mind. It was a very intimate attack and I really don't want it repeated, ever, even in a nice way by you."

Rey looked down at their still-entwined fingers. She finally let go and took his face tenderly in her hands. "I would never— _never—_ do that to you. I know what you're talking about, he did it to me too, but I'd never reach into your mind like that." She felt his body and mind relax. She went on, "Master Luke explained that Jedi can learn to sense emotions, in a pretty general way—they can tell if someone's being deceptive, or hateful, or trustworthy. But I've not been able to do that very well, 'til now."

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her hair. "Okay."

"And according to Luke, the Jedi can mainly sense emotions if they're unusual."

He kept his arms where they were, and rested his cheek on her shoulder. "What d'you mean, unusual?"

She thought about how to explain a sixth sense to a man with five. She decided to paraphrase Luke's lesson on the subject. "You remember the smell of your home on Yavin, right? Did you always notice your house's smell when you walked in?"

"Only when I'd been away from a long time. Otherwise, no, not really."

"But what if there was bread baking in the kitchen? Or a dead animal rotting there? Then the smell would be the first thing you'd notice, before sights or sounds or anything else."

"Right," he said, comprehending. "So if a person's emotions are extreme, you pick up on them."

She shrugged. "Well, a Jedi master can. I can just sense Master Luke, and now you." _And my mother_ , she added silently.

"Well," Poe said, trying to optimistic though he was still unsure about how this ability of hers would play out with him, "this'll definitely keep us honest with each other." He changed the subject. "Hey, did you know you talk in your sleep?"

"I do not. Nobody's ever told me that."

He grinned at her. " _Everyone_ you've slept with, one hundred percent of them, say so. You talk a lot, actually." He paused. "Who's Breha?"

She sucked in her breath. "What?"

"Breha. You said that name in you sleep. It rings a bell for me, but I don't know where I've heard it before."

She sidestepped the question. "What else did I say?"

"Uh, something about not being like your father. Or her father. And then you mentioned Darth Vader, and Breha." Poe shrugged. "I said you talked a lot—I didn't say you made any sense."

Rey came to a sudden decision. He was strong. She could rely on him. With a deep breath, she said, "Breha is the name my parents gave me. My brother couldn't pronounce it, so he called me Rey, and the nickname stuck."

At that news, Poe disengaged his arms from her, and sat back. "Finn told me your parents abandoned you when you were little. I thought you didn't remember them."

She shook her head. "That's what I thought, at the time. I've learned more since then. I was kidnapped, not abandoned." She took another deep breath. "Can I tell you a story? It's a secret. You can't repeat it, can't even tell Finn." He nodded, and she began.

"In the Old Republic, there was a Jedi knight named Anakin. He was strong with the Force, but also very lonely. He wanted more than the Jedi Order could offer him, and he fell in love with a senator named Padmé."

"Padmé Amidala?" Poe interrupted. "She was one of the original founders of the Rebellion. She co-wrote the Petition of the 2000 with Mon Mothma and Bail Organa."

"I…suppose. That sounds right. You know more history than I do. Anyway, Padmé and Anakin fell in love, and she became pregnant. At the same time, Anakin was becoming increasingly close to Chancellor Palpatine. When the Republic fell, Anakin sided with Palpatine and left the Jedi ways, and Padmé, behind. He joined the Empire. Palpatine renamed him Darth Vader."

"Are you kidding? Who told you that?" Before Rey could reply, his brain caught up with his mouth. "Wait, are you telling me that Anakin— _Vader_ —had a child? There's a child out there somewhere?"

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Two, actually. Twins. Of course, they're not children anymore. Padmé died in childbirth, surrounded by friends. They decided to separate the babies, in order to hide them from the Emperor. So a Jedi friend took the boy to the middle of nowhere, a planet called Tatooine, and—"

"That's Luke Skywalker's homeworld."

"Yes, I know. And Padmé's friend from the Senate adopted the girl."

Poe blinked a few times, then shook his head violently. "Her friend Senator Organa? That can't be. That would make…that would mean…Rey, you can't be telling me that Leia Organa is…that the _leader of the Resistance_ is Vader's daughter? That's just not possible." Poe turned from her, groped blindly for his shirt and pants. He needed to get out of that sleeping bag, out of the tent, and just walk around. "The last of the Jedi, our hope for the future, is the son of Darth Vader?!" Mostly dressed, he threw the flap of the tent open and started walking.

Rey felt as well as saw his distress, and her own anxiety level spiked in sympathy. She grabbed her clothes and dressed hurriedly. "Poe, stop, please." She gathered their gear, shoved it into her backpack. "Let's take the tent down, at least."

Having paced around in a big circle for a few minutes, Poe returned to the tent and sat back down on the crumpled sleeping bags.

"She spent her whole life fighting the Empire, Rey! Why would she have done that if she was…one of them? Does she even know who she is? How did we all trust her to lead us? How are we supposed to trust her now? Or Luke? I mean…" He trailed off, coming up with twenty questions simultaneously.

Rey swallowed. "She's not 'one of them.' But yes, she knows who she is. So does Luke. He's the one who told me."

"Gods. How could Han Solo have married her? And even have _children_ with her? He must've been out of his mind to risk it."

That did it for Rey. Anxiety blossoming into anger, she jumped up, grabbed the pack, and left the tent. Telling him had obviously been a huge mistake. Rey's fierce protectiveness towards her mother warred in her heart with regret, frustration, and the abrupt loss of something she'd just found. She hadn't even finished telling him the story—and she wasn't going to now.


	4. An Argument (Like Mother, Like Daughter)

She stomped off, her boots plopping through the muddy ground. Poe followed gamely.

"Why are you mad at me?" he asked her retreating back.

"I'm not mad," she said, attempting but failing to appear calm.

Poe rolled his eyes. "So you get to read my mind, but I can't even have a hint as to what you're thinking?"

"Once again, I _cannot_ read your mind."

"Well, apparently I'm completely transparent to you Jedi," Poe continued, increasingly frustrated. "Kylo Ren—"

Rey whirled around to stare into his face. "I am _nothing like_ Kylo Ren," she bit out. Her tone was angry, but her eyes looked fearful more than anything else. "Nothing like him! I would never do that to you!" She realized she was shouting at her friend, and added more calmly, "He didn't learn that trick from a Jedi. Snoke taught him that."

"All right, all right," Poe soothed. "You're nothing like Ren." _Apologize, Dameron, don't matter why._ "I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Rey lifted an eyebrow. She thought for a moment before shaking her head. "I'm fine. You're the one who has the problem."

"Oh, do I?" _Yeah, I do. One brown-eyed, capricious, totally incomprehensible problem…._

"I don't know how you're going to ever follow orders again, now that you've concluded that your commander in chief is some kind of freak we should all shun."

Poe stared mutely at Rey, only vaguely aware that it was raining again and they were getting soaked. Again. "What in the twenty-six moons of Yavin are you even _talking_ about, Rey? Who did I call a freak?"

She swallowed. "General Organa."

"I did not!"

"Did too. 'How could Han Solo have married her,' you said, like nobody in their right mind would dare touch someone with that bloodline."

Poe was still confused. "We're fighting over _Leia Organa_? All I meant was, Solo could've have any woman he wanted, but he went for some Force-sensitive-" He stopped himself. _Oh. Got it._

Not waiting for him, Rey turned around again and resumed her muddy march through the jungle. Poe stood there dumbly for a few moments before clomping after her. Since it was he who was at fault here, he needed fix the situation. "There are plenty of reasons a man would fall in love with her," he began. "She's very bright. Strong-willed. Self-confident. She stands up to the bad guys, Empire or First Order or whoever, she'll take on anyone. When you talk to her, she really, really pays attention to every word and she looks straight at you. She's funny and witty and beautiful."

Poe paused. Rey continued to trudge along, pretending he wasn't there. "Hey, you know what," he shouted at her, "Solo probably liked her because she was actually nice to him and didn't ignore him!" _Not true,_ he thought. _Dad said their constant arguments were legendary among the Rebels. The pilots used to take bets on whether the princess would kill the smuggler._

That finally got a reaction from Rey. She whirled on him and yelled, "Or maybe she liked him because he always had her back! Because he was a loyal friend, and he protected her when idiots like you judged her for what her father did ages ago!"

He didn't know exactly what to say to that, so he settled on a roll of his eyes. She turned back away from him. To his right, he spotted an outcropping of rock. An entranceway to a cave? A cave would be nice. He was tired of being pelted by rain. After examining it briefly and realizing that it was indeed a dry space, too small to be really called a cave but big enough, he dropped his backpack onto the ground and called to Rey. Getting no answer, he peeked out. "Hey! It's dry in here! Let's take a break."

"I want to keep going. Just a kilometer more, and we'll surely be in range of their scanners."

Poe lost his temper. "NO. We are stopping here." He ran over to Rey, picked her up, and threw her unceremoniously over his shoulder.

"Hey! Put me down!" She beat her fists against his back. "Put me down NOW!" He ignored her protests until they were under the cover of the cave, then lowered her gently…but not _too_ gently.

"Dry. Safe. No rain. Not wet. We're stopping here." She didn't protest. Satisfied with his apparent victory, Poe looked her up and down. She looked smaller and more vulnerable when she was soaked like a water fowl. The straps of her backpack were pulling her shirt tight across her chest, emphasizing her breasts, and her wet shirt really didn't leave much to his imagination. _Focus, focus._ With a herculean effort, he dragged his eyes up to her face. She was glaring at him.

"How long would the commander like to sit in this cave?" she said in mock compliance. She took off her pack and sat down cross-legged.

He shrugged. "Maybe the rain will stop soon. I'd just like to be dry for a few minutes." He rummaged through his backpack, pulling out the canteen and the thin blanket they'd shared last night. "Want some water?" He removed the cap. "Oh. It's empty."

"It's _raining,"_ Rey said with strained patience. Grabbing the canteen, she went outside, plucked a large green leaf from a tree and held it over the bottle like a funnel. Within the minute, she returned with a full container of water.

Poe took the water, tried smiling at her. He wrapped the blanket around her and dried off her hair. She'd abandoned her usual ponytail today and her hair hung loose in wet curls around her shoulders. He pulled her close and put an arm around her shoulders. With his free hand, he tried the comlink again.

"Dameron to Blue Squadron. Anyone home?" He repeated the hail before tossing the comlink back into the pack.

Static, then a tinny voice emerged from the backpack. "Blue Seven to Black Leader. Poe, are you reading me?"

He exchanged a surprised look with Rey before he reached for the comlink again. "Finn?"

"Yeah, it's me. Where've you been? We've been flying around for hours."

Poe's eyes looked heavenwards. "Can you track our com signal? 'Cause we'd really like to get outta here. It's cold, it's rainy, and Rey's in a really bad mood. Come and get me, please." He ignored the hostile look he was getting from his companion.

"Copy that, Black Leader," Finn said with a smile in his voice. "I'm getting a reading on your comlink. Hold tight, I'll be down in 15 minutes tops."

Rey stared at her hands for a moment, trying to be conscious of her breathing. She reached a decision and spoke quietly, continuing her story where she'd left off. "Han and Leia had three children."

"Yeah, I know," he said conversationally. "Rumor is they were all killed."

"Let me finish the story, Poe. Han and Leia had three children. First a son, Ben, who was born the year after the war ended. Then another boy, named Anakin." She caught his disbelieving look. "In honor of the good Jedi who was her father, as a reminder of the goodness in everyone. Something like that. And then later, they had a daughter. Breha. Named after Queen Breha of Alderaan. That's how you know that name."

Poe said nothing to that. Just kept his warm brown eyes on her face. She went on.

"By then, Snoke had consolidated the old Empire into the First Order, and the Resistance was growing. Snoke hated the Skywalkers and the Solos. They'd killed Palpatine, ended the Empire, and were now in charge of the fight against groups like the First Order. So Snoke decided to ruin the family by killing what they loved best. Snoke arranged to have the boy—the boys—killed and the daughter kidnapped." She paused long enough for him to register just who that 'daughter' was. He got it. She went on. "They took me to a ship and kept me in a cell for a long time. They used me as leverage over my parents, making them cut ties with the Republic."

"That's why Han Solo left?" Poe breathed. "One day, he just left Hosnian Prime. Resigned his commission and disappeared."

"Right. But they didn't return me like they said they would. They dumped me on Jakku and told me if I was a good girl and waited, my parents would come for me. Of course, they didn't. They had no idea where I was." Rey paused again. She was leaving out a pretty salient detail of this story: Ben hadn't been killed. But she didn't think Poe could handle that bit of news right now. Leave it for later, she told herself.

She concluded, " _Because he didn't know._ That's the answer to your question."

"What question?"

Rey kept her eyes down and spoke softly. "'Why would Han Solo marry her?' Because when he fell in love with her, he didn't know who she was. What she was. She didn't even find out about her parentage until she was in her twenties. But I know now, and so I wanted to tell you up front, before we get too…involved…because you thought I was, you know, a normal person."

"You _are_ a normal person," Poe told her with conviction. "And we _are_ involved."


	5. Finn is Friend-zoned

General Organa was in the hanger on D'Qar when their shuttlecraft landed. Poe found himself unable to look directly at his commanding officer, his mind still whirling in confusion and dismay. He felt betrayed by her, even though he knew he was being irrational. The circumstances of her birth were hardly her fault.

Leia looked over the whole group, smiling a grateful hello at Finn and the other officers who'd retrieved the missing pair, before her eyes finally settled on Poe. He was avoiding her gaze, but she stared right at him. "What's wrong, Poe?" Leia asked gently.

Disquieted, he asked bluntly, "Are you reading my mind?" After a quick glance at Rey, he corrected, "Reading my emotions? Can you do that?"

Well-bred Alderaanian eyebrows arched up. "Pardon?" she murmured, not unkindly.

"How do you know what I'm feeling?"

She tilted her head at him. "You look rattled, Poe. Anyone can see that. Why don't you go get a hot shower and a good meal? You'll feel better." Her gaze shifted to her secret daughter. "You, too, Rey. I can debrief you later."

"Yes, ma'am," Poe muttered. He gave an informal salute to the general and headed towards his quarters. After a few steps, he turned back. "General? You didn't answer my original question."

She smiled at him. "I'm a politician, Commander. I'm very good at evading questions." And with that, she turned and walked Rey to her quarters.

 _She still didn't answer the question,_ Poe thought, distractedly making his way through the base. He stopped walking as a realization hit him hard. He suddenly understood what made Leia Organa arguably the best politician and leader of her generation, why he always felt like she "got" him, why she seemed to have such good luck in battle. _Jedi. She's a kriffing_ Jedi. _She might not show off her powers publically, but she's using them._

Poe didn't know how to feel about the Jedi. His parents had admired the Jedi Order, though they were toddlers when Order 66 had been given. And Poe had read about the heroics of the Jedi, including Luke Skywalker, in history books. The Order was supposed to protect the people and defend democracy; what was wrong with that? Rey's abilities had intrigued and fascinated him, at least until today. So why was he now so uncomfortable with the Force? Poe couldn't decide whether it was residual fear of Kylo Ren, or merely the knowledge that Rey—and her mother and uncle—might understand him better than he would want.

* * *

Rey didn't know how to feel. She was having a very strange day.

The hot shower suggested by her mother felt wonderful, but the sensual feeling of heat on bare skin had annoyingly focused her thoughts on Poe Dameron. She scrubbed herself clean, shampooed her hair and lathered flower-scented soap over her skin, thinking of him the whole time. She didn't regret what had happened in that tent, not at all—except the part where she'd told him her whole family history. She'd trusted him too much, too early, and it may have ruined the whole relationship before it even had a chance to really get started. Rey knew she was by nature a trustful person. That quality had gotten her into trouble on Jakku more than once, until she'd finally learned to shy away from everyone. All those scavengers, they were only out for themselves. But here, on D'Qar with these lovely Resistance fighters, Rey had surrendered to her instinctive openness. Everyone here was so unguarded, so friendly. And Poe…she had believed he'd be able to handle the weight of her secrets.

She pressed her forehead into the cold tile of the shower and let herself cry. How had she ruined this so quickly? Or had she just overestimated his depth of feeling for her? Maybe she was just another girl he…enjoyed…until complications arose, and now he was going to bolt. That thought made her seesaw between anger and humiliation. She shut off the shower and dried herself roughly with a towel, getting some strange comfort from rubbing her skin raw. _It doesn't matter if you drove off a perfectly nice man or if he ran because he's a cowardly jerk,_ she chided herself. _Either way, you're an idiot._

Rey ate by herself in the mess hall. It was late afternoon, too early for dinner, but she hadn't eaten anything for a day except rations—even though she'd vowed she would never eat those damned ration packs ever again. Not after having subsisted entirely on them for fifteen years. So she got herself a nice big plate of real food, including a triangular fruit-and-bread concoction called "pie," which was so sweet that her teeth ached from it. It was good, though. She had two pieces.

"Hi, stranger," a voice behind her said. Rey was so absorbed in thinking about Poe and eating her meal, he had to repeat his greeting twice before she looked up.

"Oh, hello, Master."

Luke took the seat across from her, and eyed her leftovers with some interest. He smiled widely at her, blue eyes twinkling as usual. "Rough day?"

"Yeah."

"You want to talk about it? You seem very, uh," he paused to steal a bite of pie, "conflicted about something."

Rey considered telling him the whole story, but she decided she needed a female perspective. She'd already resolved to sit down with her mother later and confess the whole thing. So to Luke, she just suggested, "Could we do some lightsaber sparring for a while? I need to get out some aggression."

"Aggression isn't exactly what we Jedi are striving towards."

Rey sat back in her chair, giving him an exasperated look and a groan. Luke had to laugh. _That look is pure Han Solo. Exactly how he looked every time I brought up the Ways of the Jedi to him._

"You're laughing at me?"

He shook his head. "You look like your father right now," he explained softly.

"Oh." She didn't know what to say to that. "How would…what would he do if he wanted to get his mind off of something?"

Luke shrugged. "He'd work on the _Falcon._ There was always something that needed fixing or improving on the old girl. Or fly. Or he'd pick a fight with Leia. Or just talk to her, or, well, do…something with Leia." He noticed a blush creep across her face. He'd obviously hit a nerve there. He stood up and said casually, "Sure, let's go do some sparring. It's been a couple of days since we had a nice tough workout."

After two hours of lightsaber practice, another shower, and dinner with Luke and her mother, Rey was about done for the day. But she couldn't go to bed without talking to Poe, either to yell at him or to make up. It was just a matter of finding the man. _We_ are _involved,_ Poe had assured her _._ Yet as soon as they'd landed back at base, he'd vanished. Gone on patrol in that beloved X-wing of his, probably. So much for involvement. He hadn't been in the mess for dinner, so she went to Finn's quarters. No luck there, either—she was told by another soldier that Finn had gone to Poe's room with a bottle of brandy.

Resolutely, Rey marched herself to his quarters and knocked twice. _Chin up_ , she reminded herself. _You're a princess._

Poe opened the door. "Hi," he breathed, eyes widening and drinking her in as if he hadn't seen her in weeks rather than hours. He swallowed and looked straight at her. "I owe you an apology."

"No, I think I owe _you_ an apology," she murmured back, all confidence vanishing.

"Is that Rey?" called a voice from inside Poe's quarters.

She poked her head around Poe to look inside. "Hey, Finn," she greeted.

"Rey! Come in! I'll be leaving now." Finn was slurring his words, and Rey guessed abruptly that he was drunk. The mostly-empty bottle of brandy sat on the desk. Two glasses: one full, one empty. "I'll just leave you two to, you know, be two. Together."

Poe turned from the doorway and caught the stumbling soldier. "No, no, Finn, why don't you just sit down here. No need to get up." He guided his friend back into a chair. "Let me get you a glass of water. Rey? Would you like something to drink?"

Rey entered the cramped living quarters. "Sure," she said, still looking at Finn. "Water, please. Are you two drunk?"

"I am. He's not," Finn gestured at Poe. "My best friend just told me about your little camping trip, Rey. Sounds great, just great. I'm so happy for you." Sarcasm dripped off his words.

Rey moved to stand next to Poe as he poured water from the tap. "What's going on with him?" she whispered.

"He's a little…broken-hearted right now," he said into her ear. He offered her a glass of water. "He'll get over it soon enough. But maybe you should go. And come back later." He added the last part quickly, his tone rising to sound like a question.

Finn stood up again upon seeing the two of them huddled close. "No, I'm definitely going home now," he slurred. "You should be alone, to do whatever you two do when you two do what you do."

Poe and Rey stared at Finn with the same blank look.

"Um," Rey said, just to say something, "I think I'll go back to my quarters."

"Yes, Finn, you should stay here with me for a while. We'll talk some more." Poe sat down with his tipsy friend and handed him the water glass. "You were here first, after all."

Finn gave Poe an open-mouthed, disbelieving look. "You did _not_ just say that," Finn drawled. " 'You were here first'? Really? That matters to you now?!"

Poe exchanged a quick glance with Rey. "Okay, well, have a nice night then," Rey said, retreating to the corridor. She closed the door behind her and sighed. So much for that.


	6. Clearly Not Friend-zoned

Finn vacillated for another half hour between being mad at Poe and feeling sorry for himself. Then he got sick in the 'fresher, and finally, mercifully, went back to his quarters. Poe helped him brush his teeth and took off his boots and socks before tucking him into bed. Finn was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Telling his young friend had probably been a mistake, Poe reflected on the way back to his own room. But they'd seen each other that morning, and Finn had been so enthusiastic about hearing all about the adventures on that stormy planet. Poe wanted badly to share his newfound feelings for Rey with someone, and so had opened up to his best friend. _But still,_ Poe thought. _Big mistake._

He shut the door of his quarters with a sigh and prepared for bed. Last night had been so very nice, arguably the best night he'd ever spent with a woman. Actually, he thought, the _only_ night he'd ever spent completely in the presence of a woman. He hadn't been exaggerating to Rey; his usual MO was a brief, no-strings, no-commitment affair. He didn't want or need entanglements.

Except…now he did. Rey—Breha, he amended—fascinated him, and learning about her twisted family history just gave her more depth. Her complexity intrigued him. The combination of her fierce strength and gentle nature intrigued him too, as did the dichotomy between her wanton passion and sweet innocence. Everything about that girl intrigued him.

This morning, though, he'd almost blown it. Rey had a superficial warmth towards everyone, but she didn't truly open up to anyone. So sharing anything personal was, Poe knew, a huge leap of faith for her. And he'd taken that trust and crushed it. Implied that her whole family was a mistake. What had she accused him of calling her mother? 'Some kind of freak'? Poe dropped his head back onto his pillow with a groan. _You need to apologize for that. A lot._

He lay there for a while, thinking of Rey. She didn't have her own quarters, which was problematic. General Organa had two bedrooms, and had invited Rey to bunk there. Poe realized abruptly that she'd kept an extra bedroom just in case her daughter ever came home. He felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the general. How lonely she must've been. Husband gone, two children killed, the third one vanished. No wonder she put all of her energy into the Resistance.

But even though he understood the General's motives, it still put a damper on any romance in Rey's room. And he couldn't very well knock on that door to ask Rey to come out and play; Organa would probably arrange a nice suicide mission for Poe, if that Wookiee didn't kill him on sight. Problematic for sure. As an alternative, he decided to try out that Force stuff. Could she really feel him? He concentrated on her face, her body, and called her to him. _Breha,_ he thought. _Come here. Please. I want you here. Rey, do you hear me?_

Unbelievably, within five minutes there came a soft knock on the door. Poe opened it and stared at her, incredulous. "I can't believe that worked."

Rey smiled at him. "I felt a…tug. Were you tugging at me?" Her curious dark eyes skipped down from his face to his bare chest and his black sleep-shorts, then back up again. Poe suddenly felt very exposed, and flushed pleasantly when he realized she was savoring the view.

He fingered her loose cotton shirt and pulled her towards him through the doorway. "Yeah," he murmured, "I was tugging at you. I wanted to see if that Force of yours really works."

"Oh, it works," she grinned. She let herself be drawn to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist while shutting the door with his free hand.

Poe had planned a nice formal apology for his impetuous behavior earlier, but as soon as the door closed, she took his face in her hands and kissed him hard on the mouth, and thus all he managed was a muffled "I don't care who your family is," worked in between kisses.

That apology seemed to suffice. Nevertheless, Poe was determined to make Rey feel like the center of the galaxy tonight, to shower affection on her as a physical sort of apology. His hands caressed her face and back, lifting her shirt up and off as he went. Her skin was as warm as Jakku sand. He pulled her hairband off to let her hair spill through his fingers. He buried his face in her silky hair and breathed her in for a few moments, then trailed kisses from her neck back up to her mouth. Shuffling backwards while kissing, they ended up sprawled on the sole couch in the cramped room, with Rey lying lightly on top of him.

"I like this part of you," she said softly, kissing his shoulder.

"What, my collarbone?" he asked.

"No, here." She ran her hand between his neck and bicep. "The soft part. Makes a good pillow." She lay her head there, sideways, so she could look at him. "See?"

He nodded, wrapping his arms across her back to keep her from sliding off the small blue sofa. "Uh-huh. _That_ 's your favorite part of me?"

She grinned at him. "Right now it is. Any bits of me that you like?"

"I don't know, let me have a look at you." Poe gently pushed her up by her shoulders until she was sitting up, straddling him. He scrutinized her, sliding his hands down her back to rest on her slim hips. Her hands gripped his shoulders for balance, and she was looking down at him, letting her dark hair fall into her face.

"I guess I like…" he trailed off. "Honestly, every centimeter of you is perfect." She bit her lip and averted her eyes, unaccustomed to compliments. "Except your elbows," he added with a shrug, "which are pretty average."

Of course, that got her looking at her elbows. "What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing," he said through a smile. "Just…they're just normal, while the rest of you is…is…" His fighter pilot background didn't really supply him with the right words. "Exquisite," he whispered.

She stared into his eyes for a moment, then leaned down to kiss his lips. The air between them became ionized, charged, then caught fire. He pulled her down to him, hands roaming insistently, mouth devouring hers. Then he shifted her body upwards to cup her breasts. His mouth moved down to suck one taut nipple as her body arched in response and-

A series of beeps interrupted them. Poe and Rey both looked up to see an orange-and-white ball staring at them, his domed head tilted to the side with a distinctly curious expression.

"Damn it, BB-8!" Poe admonished the droid. "You are supposed to be charging in the galley." BB-8 began explaining, but Poe cut him off. "Worry about that tomorrow. Right now, go to the galley, plug yourself in and shut yourself down. Now."

The droid's head drooped and he beeped sadly, rolling slowly away.

"Faster!" Poe called mercilessly. He pointed an angry finger at the kitchen. "That way."

Rey tried to placate the droid. "I'll give you a whole system scan tomorrow, BB, okay?"

He turned back and chirped happily at her. He was very fond of Rey. She took good care of him.

Poe exhaled a frustrated breath. "He knows better than that."

Rey laughed. "Don't be so hard on your little boy. He's just curious. He doesn't want to be left out."

Poe smirked. They waited until they'd heard the whirr of BB-8's motivator go silent. Then Poe stood up and went to the galley to confirm that his droid was indeed powered down; he just couldn't relax otherwise. Returning to the couch, he scooped Breha up in his arms and wordlessly carried her to bed.


	7. Orange is the New Black

A small flat rectangle on the night-table began to buzz. And buzz, and buzz louder. Rey woke up with a jolt, her head on that soft part of Poe's shoulder that she liked. He reached one arm out and swatted the rectangle, with a groan. Then he put his arm back where it had been: around her.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"Th'lrm," he muttered.

"What language are you speaking?"

Poe laughed at that. "The alarm," he said, trying to enunciate. "I have a briefing with the brass in, um, 39 minutes."

"Oh," Rey said, disappointed. "You've got to get up, then?"

He snuggled closer and nuzzled whatever body part of hers was closest. "Not quite yet. I can skip breakfast." He rolled on top of her like a blanket and kissed her deeply. "Hi."

She wrapped her legs around his thighs, invitingly. "Hi," she said with a smile.

Poe already knew he was going to be late.

* * *

"You're going to be late."

"Yeah, yeah," Poe said, coming out of the sonic shower. Opening the door of his small wardrobe, he dropped the towel he was wearing and pulled on an orange flight suit. "I'm hurrying."

Rey stretched out on Poe's bed, blankets wrapped around her, watching in admiration as Poe got dressed. "No wonder I see your Force-aura as orange," she commented lightly. "Between that suit and your droid, there's a lot of orange around here."

He turned to look at her. "What, I'm not red anymore?"

"Not in the last ten minutes, no," she affirmed.

"I guess that's a good thing before a meeting with your mother. So, what are you going to do today?"

Rey inspected his alarm clock. "Well, this is an annoying little box. So I'm going to take it apart, strip it down, maybe sell it for parts."

Poe stopped grooming long enough to throw her a grin. "You can strip down whenever and whatever you want, baby."

She sneered at the alarm. "You're doomed." Then, to Poe: "Hey, I've got a question for you about last night."

Finally dressed, Poe walked to the galley and picked up a ration package labelled _Bread._ No time for a real meal, and certainly no time for a trip to the mess hall. "Sure, go ahead." He tried to rip the ration pack open, tearing where it said _Tear Here_. No success. He tried again. "How the hell do you open this?"

Rey picked up a shirt of his from the floor and casually threw it on. Then she trotted over. With practiced fingers, she ripped the package at the opposite end from the directions, put the powder in a bowl and added just the right amount of water. She stirred it with her pinkie, and the powder puffed up into a little ball of dough. Poe watched, awestruck.

"That was so cool, I don't even think I can eat it now."

She was unimpressed. "Eat it. Your meeting starts in two minutes."

He took a bite, then made a face. "You ate this for _fifteen years?_ And you survived?"

"Well, barely."

He thought about that while chewing. A childhood spent with survival rations as the only nourishment…it made his heart ache to think about her like that. He embraced her without warning, surprising her. "You'll never have to live like that again, you know."

"I know," she said into his shoulder.

"So what was your question? About last night? You've piqued my interest."

"If my mother is running that meeting, it's gonna start on time. Which is now." Poe just nodded and gestured for her to continue, so she plunged ahead. "You know that…thing…you did yesterday? I was wondering if you invented that."

Mentally running a list of possible 'things' he might have invented, he furrowed his brow.

"You know?" He shook his head, and she averted her gaze. "When you were on your knees next to the bed, and my leg was over your shoulder.…"

"Oh, _that_ thing," Poe laughed. "No, I didn't invent it. I just perfected it." With a wink and a kiss, he was out the door.

* * *

Of course, the meeting had begun punctually. Major Ematt was standing in front of the large round monitor, explaining the week's drills and duty shifts. Poe snuck in as inconspicuously as one could while wearing bright orange, and stood next to his squadron mate, Snap Wexley. Still thinking about inventing new things for Miss Solo, Poe tried and failed to get the stupid grin off of his face before Snap noticed it.

"You were with a woman," Wexley commented. It was a statement, not a question. "I can't believe you, man. How many females _are_ there on this base that you haven't—"

Poe hissed between his teeth, "This is different. And shush before Ematt notices."

Snap turned to the rest of Blue Squadron, standing behind him. "Poe got laid," he whispered loudly over his shoulder.

Unfortunately, that was exactly the moment at which Major Ematt had stopped speaking, and there was complete silence in the room. Complete and utter silence. Even the droids stopped moving. And in a round room, every pair of eyes could look at Commander Dameron simultaneously.

The silence was broken after several painful heartbeats by a lone giggle, whereupon all eyes swiveled over to the room's entrance: Luke Skywalker was standing there, laughing. Poe caught his eye, and Luke winked at him. Winked and laughed. Poe's jaw dropped in horror.

The stoic Admiral Statura stepped forward, pretending nothing at all had happened, and began reciting the missions for the next two days. Poe drilled his eyes into the back of the officer in front of him, trying very, very hard not to look at General Organa, who had her arms crossed over her chest and was staring daggers at him. He contemplated the myriad ways in which the daughter of Darth Vader could kill him. When Statura finished, Poe darted out of the conference room as quickly as humanly possible, and headed for his beloved X-wing.

* * *

Poe had removed the front end of the starboard laser cannon, scrubbed it clean, and was in the process of remounting it, when he heard a cheerful voice behind him.

"Well, that was a fun meeting."

Poe looked over his shoulder to see Master Skywalker. He almost dropped the laser cannon assembly. _This is not happening,_ he thought desperately.

"Can I help you with that?" Luke grabbed the aft end of the cannon before Poe could even respond. "It's been a while since I worked on one of these birds. I've kinda missed it."

"This one's a little temperamental," Poe admitted, pushing the cannon back into its socket. "Thanks." He looked at the Jedi. He was shorter than Poe had imagined, but had a wiry grace and a lightness of being that made him seem younger than he probably was.

"Are you about ready for a break?" Skywalker asked. "I could use some lunch."

"It's only ten o'clock."

"Well," Luke said affably, "brunch, then? I haven't eaten much today. How about you?"

Poe wondered if Skywalker had already guessed the answer to that question, but his stomach rumbled happily at the thought of something besides that hideous bread. He smiled at the Jedi. "I'm starving. Lead on."

On the way to the mess hall, Poe remembered Luke's first question. "Yeah, it was a super fun meeting today. I can't believe I didn't get chewed out by Major Ematt. Or by Admiral Statura."

"Or killed by my sister," Luke added. Poe threw him a surprised look. "She's a little protective of Rey," Luke clarified.

"As she should be," Poe said, glancing around to see if anyone was in the corridor. Nobody was. "She's only got one daughter."

Luke stopped walking, and it took Poe a few steps to realize he was suddenly alone. But the older man caught up easily, and said pleasantly, "I think we should take our food to go. Let's eat in my quarters."

* * *

"You know," Luke said between bites of a pastry, "Han Solo once did the same thing to your father as Wexley did today."

Poe sipped his caf. "Really?"

"Yeah. Just before the Battle of Endor, Han was talking to the whole strike team about the mission, and your dad showed up a little late, looking very, uh, ruffled. Shirt untucked, boot laces untied, you know. And Han made some crack about him and Shara and the best way to get ready for a battle. Han meant it as an aside, just to your father, but the whole strike team had gotten really quiet and overheard. Kes blushed just as red as you did today."

Poe was silent for a moment. "I miss my dad. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to who, you know, has been through the stuff I'm going through now." He paused. "I think he'd like Breha."

Luke's eyebrows rose. "She told you her name? What else did our girl tell you?"

The pilot shrugged. "Your whole family history, I think."

"That's a very long story."

"Yeah, we had a nice long talk in a tent on Raju III. It started with Anakin and Padmé, how he turned evil and why you and your twin got separated, and ended with Rey's abduction and her brothers getting killed."

Luke noted the falsehood about Ben, but decided to discuss that with Rey rather than here with Dameron. "And you were okay with all that? No questions for me?"

Poe considered. "I acted like a jerk at first. Managed to insult three generations of your family at the same time. But I got over it. Rey's pretty good at arguing."

"Oh, she should be," Luke snorted. "It's in her breeding. Wait 'til you two have a real fight."

"My father said that with her parents, during the Rebellion, arguing was like a blood sport."

Luke smiled wistfully. "Yes, they were…spirited." He turned serious. "But they adored each other. They just sparred for fun."

Poe swallowed the last of his drink. "I do have a question for you. About General Solo, actually." Luke looked at him encouragingly, so he continued. "How did he manage, I mean, with everyone in his family being Force-sensitive, did he ever get tired of you guys being able to sense his feelings all the time? It put him at a big disadvantage."

"Well, Han wasn't at that much of a disadvantage. He could always read me pretty easily, and he didn't need the Force to know what Leia was thinking, either. And there were only a few times that it really bothered him that I could sense _his_ emotions. Mostly early on in his romantic relationship with Leia, when they were trying to keep things secret…but they were so completely wrapped up in each other, it was pretty obvious."

"Did he ever try to hide his feelings from you? Is that even possible?"

"Sure, you can." Luke mulled it over. How had Han managed? It'd been so long since Han had tried any sort of deception. They'd been past that point for decades. "Oh, I remember. He'd concentrate on the _Falcon._ Her technical specs. So the next time you see Leia, and you're thinking about Rey? Just do a mental comparison of the T-65 and the T-70."

Poe brightened. "You think that'll work?"

"On Leia? Probably not. But at least you won't look quite as…enthusiastic…as you did this morning."

He cringed inwardly. "Do you think maybe General Organa knows? About Rey and me?"

Luke burst into laughter once again. He hadn't had this much fun in years. Since Han left. Since Ben. And for the hundredth time today, he missed his best friend. Han would be getting such a kick out of this whole situation, and would surely be busy hatching plans to mess with Dameron. Luke realized Poe was still waiting for an answer, though, and said simply, "Uh, yeah. She knows."

"But _how?"_

The Jedi tilted his head. "Have you ever seen fireworks exploding?"

"Yes," he said warily.

Luke smiled and gave a little shrug.

The younger man groaned, covered his face with his hands, and reminded himself why he'd always avoided relationships. They were complicated. And this one was going to be unbelievably complicated.

"She's worth it, Poe," Luke reminded him softly.

He lifted his head and, for the first time, met the Jedi Master's gaze directly. "Well, she certainly is that."


	8. Teacups and Pebbles

Rey resisted the temptation to dismantle Poe's alarm. If she were back on Jakku, she mused, it could have gotten her three or four portions, at least. The thought seemed odd to her now; how quickly she was forgetting her old life. She treated herself to a water shower—another thing that would have been alien to her months ago—and then gave BB-8 a complete systems scan and update, along with an oil bath. Beebee was her favorite droid, Poe's droid, and it pleased her to take care of him.

Next, Rey went to find Kaydel Connix, a young officer who had befriended her when she first arrived on D'Qar. There was supposed to be some sort of party tonight—dancing, drinking and music—and Kaydel had mentioned they would be allowed to be out of uniform. Since Rey had practically nothing to wear to such an event, Kaydel had promised to lend her an outfit. They had a similar height and build. So Rey spent some time in Connix's quarters playing dress-up, fighting her unease. She had never cultivated a fashion sense. Still, it was eye-opening and a little bit fun to see herself in different fabrics and different colors.

When Kaydel had to go on duty, Rey took her borrowed dress back to her quarters. She hoped to find her mother, in order to have a talk about Mr. Dameron and get some advice, but the rooms were empty. And so Rey went in search of Master Luke. Nothing like a little meditation or a workout to focus the mind, she reasoned.

In the late afternoon, Rey was out in the jungle, practicing lightsaber poses with Luke, when she saw the X-wings complete their aerial patrol and land. For her uncle's sake, she tried to suppress the rush of excitement that seeing that black X-wing generated in her.

"Master, can we stop now? I've got a few things to do before the party tonight."

Luke lowered his practice blade and nodded. He didn't mean to pry, but he wanted her to know she could be open with him. "You've got dinner plans?"

Rey shrugged. "Not yet, but I suppose I might. I wanted to take Poe to visit my father's grave, actually."

"Oh" was all Luke could think of to say.

"Unless you think it's weird?"

"No, I don't think so. I do some of my best thinking when I'm talking to people who aren't there." Luke noticed Rey's restless glances at the hanger, and tipped his head in that direction. "Go find him."

* * *

Luke sought his sister in the command center of the base. Like Leia herself, the base had an air of driven efficiency, competence and restless energy. The officers were trying to finalize a plan to go on the offense against First Order Star Destroyers; now that their Starkiller Base was gone, most of the Order's top dogs were scattered on ships, which made them easier targets.

When she finished consulting with Major Ematt, Luke stepped in. "Hi."

She smiled at him. "Hi yourself. What's up?"

"Do you have a few minutes to talk in private? It's nothing important, but—"

"Absolutely," Leia assured him. "Walk me back to my quarters? I could use a cup of tea before dinner."

Once they were in the corridor, out of earshot of others, Luke said, "So. Rey."

"What about Rey?"

"She's in love."

She shot him a disbelieving look. "What, with Poe Dameron? He's…that's not love. She just has a crush. He's 32, for one thing. Way too old for her."

"Hm," Luke said noncommittally. "When you met Han, you were nineteen, and he was, what? Around thirty?"

"That's completely different," she said quickly, shaking her head. "We were friends for years before we thought about love."

"Oh." Luke tried to keep the sarcasm out of voice. "Sure, that's what happened." They entered her quarters, where Leia prepared a pot of tea while Luke stretched out on her couch. "I talked to him this morning. He's a good man. Very straightforward, bright, easygoing…" He leaned over to the couch, to see if she was paying attention. She was. "And he's very devoted to Breha."

She called out from the small kitchen. "Yes, he's a nice guy and a terrific officer. But they're just friends, Luke. She's not mature enough for any sort of relationship."

"She's twenty. Old enough."

"But she didn't have normal friendships growing up, so she's less mature than most twenty year-olds."

"She's old enough," he repeated, accepting a cup of tea from Leia as she sat down in the living area. "She told him all about us. The family, I mean."

Leia's eyebrows rose in surprise. "How much is 'all'? I mean, _all?"_

He nodded. "All of it except Ben. Poe seems to be under the impression that her two brothers were killed years ago."

Leia considered that for a few moments. Then: "Well, so she trusts him, for the most part. That's still nothing more than a friendship." She sipped her tea, decided it was still too hot, and began placing it back on the end table.

"They're sleeping together."

Her tea cup missed the table completely and landed on the floor.

"What!" Leia squealed. "I thought it was just…flirtation. Kissing, maybe."

Luke leaned over, picked up the cup, and poured half of his tea into her mug. He grinned at her. "Come on, Leia. Even Snap Wexley figured this one out. You must've felt them in the Force; they're pretty hard to miss."

She pouted. "I was ignoring the Force. And Wexley." He laughed. "She's my baby girl, Luke." She sighed deeply. "Han would kill him."

"Han would love him," Luke countered. "Poe and Han are pretty similar, you know. Of course Rey fell for his type. You did."

Leia was almost offended. "I don't see the resemblance."

"Really, you don't? A cocky, self-assured, enormously talented pilot, with dashing good looks and a loyal sidekick, who loves his ship and ignores authority—"

"Poe respects authority," she interrupted.

"Didn't you recruit him after he'd broken ten different Republic regulations?"

She moaned, conceding defeat. "Okay, there might be _some_ similarities." She remembered how hard she'd fallen for Han…that slow flight to Bespin…how she'd tossed aside her allegiance to the Alliance in order to go find her carbon-frozen scoundrel. But surely Rey's feelings for Poe weren't that strong? Leia maintained the belief that her love for Han was a very rare thing, and that most people never found their soul mate. "It probably won't last."

Luke held his hand out. "I'll bet you ten credits."

She shook his hand. Bet made.

* * *

Just outside of the base, the Resistance members had cleared a bit of the jungle to make a Memorial Garden. Benches, flowers and shady trees were sprinkled throughout the area to create a calm space for reflection. To commemorate their fallen comrades, the Garden had white spikes driven into the soft ground, each one with the name, rank and a few personal details about the Resistance fighter. There were no actual bodies below the grave markers; most of the fallen had exploded in mid-air or had been pulverized on Hosnian Prime. Or, in one case, had imploded with Starkiller Base.

Rey and Poe walked through the Garden, looking for Han Solo's marker. "It's just a meter away from a knobby tree," Rey said, shielding her eyes from the late-afternoon sun.

"Gods, there are so many," Poe lamented, reading the names of friends and squad mates. In front of the markers, people had placed pebbles, indicating that they had visited; it was a sign of respect and love to leave a stone. "Hey, that tree looks pretty knobby." He walked in that direction.

Rey got there first, then counted steps from the tree to the markers. There were two: identical, white, equidistant. She looked up at Poe. "Do you see it?"

"Yeah," Poe regarded her in confusion. "It's right there." He sat down cross-legged on the ground in front of Solo's marker, and gestured at the inscription.

Rey sat next to him. "I don't read very well," she confessed softly.

"You can't read?" Poe blurted out, before thinking it over. Of course. What was there to read on Jakku? Schoolbooks and holonovels?

"I learned to read and write Aurebesh when I was little," she said defensively. "I'm just…out of practice."

He tapped the nearly-triangular symbol in a four-letter word. "That's an O. See, there are two of them, to spell Solo." He pointed at the other letters. "That's an S, that's an L. You read from left to right."

"What does the rest of it say?"

His finger underlined each word as he read. "Han Solo of Corellia, General of the Rebel Alliance, General of the New Republic, Prince Consort of Alderaan…" He paused. _"Prince,_ really?"

"What's a prince consort?" Rey asked.

"Uh, no idea. It goes on. Husband of Leia, father of Ben, Anakin and Breha. Fell in battle on Starkiller Base." He caressed one word. "That's your name. Five letters."

Next to Han's marker was a pile of pebbles and a sprig of red flowers someone had planted. Supporting the flowers' stems, there was a small stick, which Poe used to draw her name in the dirt. "You wanna try?" he asked encouragingly.

She copied BREHA, brow furrowed in concentration. "The 'B' is the hardest. And the 'A.' No wonder I called myself Rey; it's much easier to spell." She wrote the word again, adding SOLO after it.

He got up and wandered towards the tree, looking for stones. "I always wanted a nickname when I was little, but there's really nothing you can do with Poe. It already sounds like a shortened version of something. I was jealous of my best friend, Jeremiah. He got lots of nicknames." He knelt down next to her, handing her a small grey stone to add to the pile. "I like both your names, but I'm only gonna call you Breha when we're alone. It's too pretty to share with the public."

She smiled at him. "It'll be our secret, then," she whispered.


	9. A Free Evening and a Green Dress

**Thank you to everyone who's been following along with Poe and Rey! Please leave me a review if you get a chance. I'd like to know your opinion.**

 **I just watched the film "Inside Llewyn Davis," starring our man Oscar Isaac (and, bizarrely, co-starring Adam Driver, who sings happily and is completely unlike Kylo Ren, along with Neelix from Star Trek: Voyager). The music for the party scene is inspired by the film; think folk songs with a guitar. Poe is singing along to "Five Hundred Miles," which I obviously had to change to "Five Parsecs." So turn that song on while you read this.**

* * *

Most of the Resistance members were youths in their teens and twenties. Their parents had been forced to live under the Empire, but this generation had grown up in a free Republic, and they refused to relinquish that taste of independence and submit to the rigidity of the First Order. Despite their unflagging allegiance to the Cause, though, Leia Organa knew the young soldiers needed some time to let loose and relax. They were fighting for freedom, after all, so it would be hypocritical of her to force them to endure an overly regimented military lifestyle.

The General insisted therefore on having monthly parties, loose evenings devoted to relaxation, socialization and the arts. She was leading a _civilized_ rebellion based upon her Alderaanian artistic sensibilities. Hers was the only military base she knew of with a decent bunch of musicians.

At the moment, Leia was sitting in the living area of her quarters, waiting for Rey to finally finish getting dressed. She smiled a little; preening was such a girlish thing to do, and her daughter rarely seemed girlish. Too hard a childhood, too little food and too much fear. Leia was absolutely determined to compensate her for that. Breha needed to be spoiled. So she could take all the time she wanted to get dressed, in whatever clothes she liked. And she could have Poe if she wanted him…as long as he treated her like a princess. Leia knew something about that.

Leia thought idly about taking Rey shopping, rather than making her borrow clothes from Kaydel Connix. She leaned her head in her hand and twisted her fingers around a gold earring. Han had sent the earrings to her a few years earlier, along with a sweet letter. Just one of the periodic gestures of love he'd offer her. She should have answered that letter of his, thanked him for the earrings and asked to come…. _Stop,_ Leia told herself firmly. _Stop thinking about him._ She pushed her mind back towards their daughter. Naboo, she decided suddenly. She'd take Breha to Naboo, a beautiful, peaceful planet, and buy her anything she desired.

Presently, the door to Rey's room opened, and out she came, with an unsure look on her face.

"You look lovely," Leia said with a smile. She meant it; she hadn't seen her daughter this dressed up since she was four, accompanying her parents to diplomatic functions with bells and ribbons. And with her brothers. That train of thought led only to painful places, though, so Leia again clamped down on her memories.

"I don't know, I don't feel much like me." Rey tugged at her neckline. "Is it too low? Kaydel said it was fine like this, but I feel so…exposed." The dress was light green and sleeveless, with a wide sash at the waist and breezy, flowing material that hit just under her knees.

"The neckline's fine." Leia studied the look for a moment. "But you need a necklace. There's too much empty space here."

"I haven't got any…"

"I know." Her mother was already moving towards her bedroom. She returned with a delicate, silver choker attached to a lavender pendant. "Let's try this," she suggested, slipping it around Rey's neck.

"Is there a story behind this?" She loved stories. There weren't enough stories told on Jakku, and she was starved for information on her own background.

"There's always a story." She turned Rey to face the mirror. "Do you like it?" The younger woman nodded energetically. "Good, you can keep it." Leia paused. "Your father gave it to me when your brother Anakin was born. My labor with Ben was very difficult—horrible, really, everything went wrong—and we expected something similar with Ani. It turned out to be far easier the second time round. Six hours, and he was out. But Han had bought me that pendant already, in anticipation of a hard delivery. See, it's shaped like a teardrop? To represent the pain of labor, he said. Anyway, the stone is called a kunzite. The Corellians call it 'the stone of emotion.' It's supposed to connect the heart of the giver to the one of the receiver."

Breha looked thoughtful. "I think your hearts were already connected, weren't they?"

"Of course. But it's still a nice idea." Leia tucked a loose strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "Maybe the necklace will make you feel more connected to your father."

Rey fingered the pendant and nodded. "It's working."

* * *

The party was already in full swing. A bonfire blazed, three Resistance fighters were playing string instruments and singing into microphones, couples danced, and it looked like the punch had already been sufficiently spiked. Leia smiled approvingly.

Breha had immediately gone off to talk with Poe and Finn, who greeted her warmly. Somehow Finn was now more at ease with her than previously. Their relationship status was clear now, so he felt freer to be playful with her.

"Hey, Rey's dressed like a girl!" Finn teased. "Who knew you could wear any color besides sand?"

She snarled and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Where'd you get the jewelry?" Finn asked, ducking the blow.

"General Organa gave it to me."

"She _gave_ it to you?" Finn looked at Dameron. "She never gives me jewelry. How 'bout you, Poe?"

"No, not yet," Poe murmured. He continued to stare at the woman in front of him. "You look amazing."

She smiled at the ground, then raised her eyes and returned his stare through dark lashes. "Thank you, Commander," she said quietly. It was the most erotic sentence Poe had ever heard come out of her mouth, full of sensuous promise. Once again, the air between them seemed to ionize. They held each other's gaze without breathing.

Aware of the sudden tension between his friends, Finn began to feel like a third wing on a TIE Fighter. "Okay, then," he said, too loudly. "I'm going to go dance." Nobody responded. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he walked away.

"You look like a princess," Poe told Rey. With an abrupt glance at General Organa, he realized, "Wait a minute—you are a princess!"

She smiled. "Yeah, I guess I am. You should, you know, bow down to me."

"I will, later," Poe whispered in her ear. "You want to dance, princess?"

"I have no idea how."

"Well, first you have to listen to the music, feel the rhythm. Don't stand with your legs so close together." He placed a hand on her inner thigh, nudging it gently, and added, "Open up." The last sentence was delivered in such a sexy whisper that Rey almost imploded on the spot.

"Are you crazy? My mother is _right there."_ Between the alcohol-fueled punch and the lust-fueled pilot, Rey suspected she was going to have a rough time maintaining control tonight.

He smirked. "Yeah, well, she probably knows how to dance just fine. Stand like that, and let your hips sway"—he put his hands on her hips and shifted her weight—"in time to the music. Keep your arms sort-of locked; see, this is my space, this is yours. And relax the rest of you a little."

Lots of directions, but he was a good dancer, and she got the hang of it. He sang softly into her ear as they danced. "Away from home, away from home, Lord, I'm five parsecs away from home," he crooned, wondering if Rey missed her home or whether she just considered Jakku a big sandy prison. He'd have to ask her later.

Luke and Leia watched them from the sidelines. Breha was smiling adoringly at the pilot, and Poe looked smitten. He was actually singing to the woman in his arms. "You owe me ten credits," Luke told his sister.

"Yeah, maybe," Leia said distractedly, thinking of her own erstwhile pilot. It was times like these—when the chaos of battle and the frantic pace of Resistance life abated, and she had time to relax—that she really, deeply missed Han. There was a gaping hole in her soul where his presence used to glow, warming her insides even when he wasn't around. She remembered dancing with him, being held in his arms, looking at him with the sort of desire Breha was now displaying. Leia felt bereft, achy. This was never going to get easier for her. Never.

A rush of warmth brushed her spirit. "Hey." Luke nudged her, and draped an arm over her shoulders. "It's okay."

"I miss Han," she whispered brokenly.

"I know."

Leia hated that sentence now.

"Good evening, General," Poe said with a respectful nod, interrupting her reverie. "You look lovely."

"Thank you, Commander," Leia said smoothly, in a tone Han used to call her 'Highnessness voice.'

"Hello, Master Skywalker."

"You can call me Luke, Poe."

"Yes, Sir." No way that was going to happen. "Thank you for another party, General. Everyone appreciates the chance to, uh, loosen up."

"Are you going to sing tonight?" She knew he had a lovely voice, which he would show off when his friends talked him into it.

Poe shrugged. "Actually, uh, Rey being here gives me a little stage-fright. So probably not."

She smiled winningly. "Well, maybe she can convince you. In the meantime, I was wondering if you'd like to join us for an outing tomorrow."

His mind went blank. "Us?"

"Luke, Chewbacca, Rey and myself. Rey hasn't been to a restaurant yet—honestly, she hasn't even been to a civilized planet at all—so we're going off-planet to be tourists for a few hours. Just a quick jump, to Naboo. Leave here in the late morning, see the capital city, have dinner, then come back to D'Qar."

Poe nodded. A day's furlough with Rey on a pretty planet like Naboo? Hell yes, he was in. What could possibly go wrong?


	10. Goodbye, Green Dress

**When I started this story, I apologized for my inability to write any sort of smut. But after nine chapters of hinting at what Poe and Rey might be doing, I figured I ought to try being more direct. Hope you like it.**

 **A huge thank you to DarkLeia for inspiration; her story "Something Not Comprehended" is the definite winner in this department. Even if you (for some strange reason) don't ship Han and Leia, well, that story will knock your socks off.**

 **So this is the chapter that's rated M. Children, please stop reading here. Nothing really happens in this chapter. Go do some homework.**

* * *

They left the party tipsy, lustful and glowing. Poe thought about dragging Rey immediately into his bed, but it seemed very far away from his front door, so he ended up sitting on the much-closer couch instead. She stood in front of him. He looked her over hungrily, one elbow on the armrest, hand on his chin, saying nothing.

"What?" She blushed at his stare.

"I think," he began, "you should wear dresses more often." He reached for her waist, pulled her closer to him. "But let's take this off now." He unzipped the dress slowly, from her shoulders down to the curve of her backside, using both hands to pull the green gauze down and off. The dress dropped to the floor and she stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. She stood before him in a necklace, a blush, and thin white unders. Poe admired the view for a long moment until, unable to keep still any longer, he drew her onto his lap and covered her face with kisses. Rey's hands went to his thick hair as she kissed him back feverishly. She had wanted this all evening. This was where she belonged.

His face lowered to her breast, tongue swirling, lips nibbling, pulling her into his mouth. One arm wrapped protectively around her back while the other hand was now moving lower, pulling off her skivvies to explore her warm center.

"Let's see what this does to you," he whispered. He burrowed into her with two fingers.

Rey moaned and threw her head back, leaning into his arm. "Just…please…just…don't…stop."

He lifted his face, leaving her breast jilted. "Stop?"

"No," she cried, more forcefully than she intended. "Don't. Stop." She clipped each syllable.

"Oh," he said, amused. He looked at her contemplatively. "I love your accent."

"Poe! Who cares about the accent?" Frustrated, she pulled his face back down, making him laugh.

"So bossy for a penniless little scavenger." With that, he flipped her over, so she was lying on top of him, her back to his front. He put his fingers back where they had been, gliding deep inside her until her whole body was writhing for him. It was just like piloting a beautiful ship, one with super-sensitive steering.

"The door's unlocked," he whispered teasingly, though it wasn't.

"Don't care," she panted.

"Anyone walking by could just come in."

"Don't care."

"Someone might hear you moaning."

With a strangled cry, she lifted her hips up. Her nails dug into his leg as she convulsed, then stilled. She opened her eyes, looked at him and shrugged nonchalantly. "Guess no one heard me."

"Well, _I_ heard you." _And you're as sexy as all nine hells of Corellia_.

She stretched out languidly across him. "Maybe I should take a shower," she mused.

"Now? Really?" Poe had other plans…although his shower stall held some promise as well.

"I feel all gooey," she explained, as innocent as a schoolgirl.

He found her choice of words endearing. "Gooey, huh? Well, let's fix that." He rolled to the side, slipping off the couch and onto his knees. He grinned up at her. "I told you I'd bow down to my princess." He pulled her legs towards him, lifting one onto his shoulder.

"I think that you are up to no good," Rey said, closing her eyes again. She knew where this was going.

"Just thinking of your comfort."

"Wait a minute, are you stopping already?" she complained after a moment.

"Well, I was just, you know, thinking of moving on."

She pouted. "But…you're so good at this," she flattered. "I love it. Please." She said please. He surrendered.

* * *

"Why is it that you're still completely dressed and I'm as naked as a womp-rat's tail?"

"Well," he observed carnally, "you are still wearing that necklace. Thank you, General Organa, for this beautiful gift."

She laughed. "Are you referring to me, or the necklace?"

"You," he smiled. "You're my gift. Courtesy of Generals Organa and Solo." He stood up. "So, undress me."

She hadn't done that yet, but her eyes sparkled with the challenge. Standing, she unbuttoned his white shirt carefully and lifted it off, letting her hands linger on the tight muscles of his abdomen a while before unbuckling his belt. Then she knelt to remove the rest of his clothing. She looked up at him, her face tantalizingly close to his midsection. "What's next?"

"You want to learn a new trick?" he breathed, fingers caressing the side of her face.

She nodded. He guided her mouth towards him and tried desperately to hold on to some semblance of control while she explored him. Her hands were warm, her mouth even warmer. Not trusting himself to keep it together after just a few minutes, he pulled Rey back to the couch, with her straddling him. He buried himself in her with a groan. They found a rhythm, pounding into each other. She arched her back, sitting up. The change of position brought such pleasure that she leaned too far, and with a gasp fell backwards onto the carpeted floor.

"Damn," Poe said, following her onto the ground. "You okay?"

She laughed and pulled him on top of her. "Yeah. Oops."

"Put your foot up on the couch." Poe was determined to use that blessed sofa from every conceivable angle tonight. He lifted her hips off the ground and plunged back into her. She kissed his mouth, his chin and neck, moaning incoherently. "Please, baby," he purred, "please come for me." That pushed her right off the edge, and she shrieked, her muscles clenching him tightly to her. He followed, collapsing on top of her. Supernova.

After a few minutes of silence to get their breathing back to some kind of normal, Rey decided, "I think I'll wear dresses every day from now on."

"Okay," Poe said drowsily, his breath still ragged. "In that case, I'm gonna schedule a check-up with a cardiologist."


	11. Naboo

**If you're wondering about the song Poe sings in this chapter, go online and find Oscar Isaac singing 'The Death of Queen Jane.' Now picture him without the beard, in the** _ **Falcon's**_ **main hold. Voilà.**

* * *

Rey's intention was to slip back into her quarters, out of yesterday's green dress, and into the shower, all without her mother noticing. That plan fell through as soon as she opened the door. The general was right there, sorting flimsis on her desk.

"Hi," Rey greeted sheepishly. Her dark hair was sleep-tousled, pulled back into a casual ponytail.

"Good morning," her mother said, with just a quick glance away from her work. "I thought we'd leave in about an hour. Do you want me to go get you some breakfast?"

Rey was ravenous. "Oh, I'd love some breakfast, thanks." She skulked towards the 'fresher. "I'm going to, um, go change."

"Sure," Leia said lightly, rising to head for the mess hall.

Neither woman knew exactly how to talk to the other about Poe. Rey wasn't sure what her mother considered moral or dignified; she'd never even seen her parents together. And although she didn't want to offend, she'd lived on her own since she was five years old, and couldn't give up the absolute independence of a desert scavenger for some arbitrary illusion of propriety. On the other hand, she admired her mother very much, and was almost desperate to prove herself. Ben had let their family down so terribly; Rey wanted to be the good child, the one they could be proud of. If her mother told her to cool it with Poe, she would try. But Leia said nothing. No judgement, but no advice either. She had smiled a few times at her daughter during the party, though—that seemed like tacit approval. Rey had been dancing with Poe all evening, making it pretty obvious that they were a couple. And Leia had invited him along to Naboo today; her way of getting to know him, perhaps, or of evaluating how he treated her? _Mother certainly wouldn't have invited him if she didn't want him near me,_ she reasoned.

She showered and changed into another outfit borrowed from Kaydel, a black skirt and a soft dusty-pink tunic with wide sleeves. The flowing fabrics made her feel feminine and pretty. Leia joined her for breakfast, during which they discussed—of all things—clothes. The women then went to collect Luke, Chewie and Poe.

* * *

Rey and Chewie headed to the _Falcon's_ cockpit to get underway. Dameron was close on their heels, so close that he almost collided with the big Wookiee when he paused to allow Rey to sit down in the captain's chair. Luke followed in their wake. Leia stayed in the main hold; the cockpit brought up razor-sharp and still-painful memories for her, so she avoided it. She avoided the whole ship whenever she could. She'd gifted it to Breha. An inheritance.

"Oh boy, I'd love to fly this baby," Poe gushed, sitting down behind Rey. He'd co-piloted the ship with her about a month ago, and he had still not recovered from the high.

Chewie shook his head and growled a negative to that idea although, he admitted to himself, the commander truly was a good pilot. Maybe he'd prove himself worthy of that chair. But for now, Chewbacca couldn't bear to see any man sit there but Han.

Leia had asked Poe to bring his eight-stringed quetarra along for entertainment on their little field trip. Presently, he was in the lounge, plucking the strings of the instrument and singing a ballad about a queen suffering through childbirth, begging for help from different people.

Luke sat at the semicircular bench, Dejarik board before him. He stroked his beard and listened to the lyrics. He watched Rey, who sat next to him, chin in her hands, elbows leaning on the table. She was gazing at Poe with a mixture of attentiveness and adoration. Chewie and Leia were all ears, as well. _How charming this is,_ he thought, _and how…normal_. Simple family life had eluded their clan since the losses of Breha and Ani, fifteen years before; they were all just too shattered. And yet, despite this sweet picture, a cloud hung over Poe. Passing clouds, swirling dark grey into white into blue skies. Maybe his future was harrowing, maybe not. Always in motion is the future, Yoda's voice whispered. Luke was sure of one thing, though: Poe's future was tangled up in Breha's.

The song ended, and the singer shrugged sheepishly. "That's all I got."

"She died at the end!" Rey complained. "What sort of song is that?"

"Well, the baby survived," Luke said. "So it was kinda hopeful."

"If you're a royal," Leia offered, "having an heir to the throne is more important than the mother's life. So if the song was written in a monarchy, they would see it as a victory. The mother died giving birth, but the succession was secured."

"It's barbaric," Rey said in a huff.

"Monarchies, or giving birth?" Leia asked her.

"Both," came the prompt response. She thought for a moment. "From time to time, I saw babies born on Jakku. The mothers screamed for hours and hours, and the babies almost always died anyway." She glanced very quickly at Poe. "It's not for me."

"Okay," Dameron argued, "but our medical technology is much, much better than that. Nobody dies like that anymore." He looked at Leia, considered asking her about her own labors, then decided any reference to her lost boys was probably too painful a subject to broach. Instead, he asked her, "As a princess, did you feel the same pressure as the queen in the song? To put the people before yourself?"

"Yes and no. Of course I was taught from birth to always think of Alderaan's people first, our family second, myself third. And I knew someday I would be the queen, with all the responsibilities of office. But I wasn't looking forward to it. I thought I'd serve in the Senate and help the Rebellion on the side until I was middle-aged, before eventually taking over for my mother Queen Breha. Your namesake," she added with a look over at Rey. "But my mother died when I was nineteen, my planet along with her, so…the plan obviously changed."

"And you never became queen," Poe said.

"Technically, I became queen the moment my mother died," Leia said quietly. "New Alderaan still considers me their head of state. I just never let myself be declared their monarch. I didn't want to be some sort of symbol."

"Is your face on their coins, then?" Rey asked disbelievingly.

Chewbacca laughed at that idea, and Leia smiled a little. "I don't know, probably not. I haven't been there in…well, years."

The topic reminded Rey of something. "What's a prince consort?"

That one got Luke _and_ Chewie laughing. "Oh, boy," Luke snickered, "I teased Han _so_ much about that." He tried to look serious. "Your dad was a prince consort." Then he looked at Chewie again, and they both burst into giggles, making Poe laugh—he'd never heard a giggling Wookiee. "But if you called him that to his face, he'd hit you."

Leia adopted an air of dignity, rising up above the maniacs surrounding her. "A consort is a commoner who, uh, marries a royal. But your father never used the title, except when we visited New Alderaan. Then everyone bowed and curtsied to him. It drove him nuts."

"He didn't respect royalty?" Rey asked.

"He…well, he respected me, but not _because_ I was a princess. It was just part of my background. So he put up with the curtsying, since it was in my culture." She tried to shift the topic away from Han. "Naboo is a constitutional monarchy, as well. They're run by a senate and governors, but they also elect a queen to serve as their head of state for four years at a time. In fact, Poe, just after the Galactic Civil War ended, your mother and I met the queen in Theed."

Poe's eyebrows went up. "Really? You were _here_ with her? I mean, I know she was your aide at one point."

Leia nodded. "It was one of our first trips together, as I remember. And of course, everything went wrong. Imperials everywhere, surrounding the palace. We finally escaped in old N-1 fighters. Great fun." She sighed. She'd liked Shara Bey. She'd had left the Alliance to raise a family; how strange that Shara's little boy was sitting in front of her now.

The computer beeped, indicating their impending arrival on Naboo.

* * *

"Boss?" The pirate waited patiently for his superior to acknowledge him. It took several seconds.

"What's up?" was the eventual reply.

"The homing beacon we put on the _Millennium Falcon_ has started pinging. The ship's on the move."

At that, Bala-Tik looked up from his work. This was news, indeed. "Where to, now?"

"The Naboo system, it looks like."

"Well, happy day. Set a course. Let's see if she's with them."

* * *

It was morning, local time, when the quintet landed in Theed. They strolled along the broad streets of the pedestrian district, admiring the elegant architecture and reveling in the quiet tranquility of the city. No fighting, no soldiers, no one shooting at anyone. People smiled at each other. There seemed to be no sharp edges in this city, Rey mused—it was all rounded roofs, curved archways, and gentle sidewalks sloping towards the pretty lake. Flowers covered every windowsill. She was like a sponge trying to soak up every visual detail, every new smell and sight. Theed was a real city, not a 'town' like Niima Outpost called itself.

They walked around the city center, getting situated and stretching their space-legs, before ducking into a relaxed but tastefully-decorated restaurant for lunch. Rey was immediately nervous. It was going to be another one of those situations where everyone knew what to do except her. Her group was guided to a table, getting several curious glances from other customers. Rey thought the looks were directed at her, until she finally realized everyone was staring at Chewbacca. The residents here were a nice mix of humans and aliens, but a Wookiee really did stand out. Chewie didn't seem to mind the attention, though; he was probably too focused on the prospect of a hearty meal.

Poe put his hand on her back, fingers grazing the material of her pink tunic. He held the seat for her. "I like this shirt of yours," he told her quietly. "It's tight in all the right places."

She smiled at him. "It's borrowed, but I'm going to buy some clothes of my own after lunch."

"Excellent."

The server arrived with menus. "Good afternoon, gentles. Can I offer you anything to drink?" He accepted Leia's order first, then looked expectantly at Rey.

She swallowed. "Just water, please."

"What kind?"

Rey looked around helplessly. "There are different kinds of water?"

The waiter smiled politely. "Still or sparkling?"

"Oh," she said, relieved. This one she could answer. "Still water, please." Poe liked the sparkling sort, but she couldn't get used to it.

The menu was a harder problem to tackle. It was pages long, hand-written in Aurebesh. She concentrated on reading the main headings, but had only managed to decipher "Appetizers" before Poe came to her rescue.

"Yikes, they have a huge variety here," Poe said to the group, flipping through the menu. Then he looked at her casually. "What are you in the mood for? Something hot, or just a sandwich? Or maybe a salad? They have a lot of salads."

Rey looked back at him, grateful for the intervention. "I need more than a salad. I'm starving." She shrugged. "Like usual." She thought it over. "I could go for a good piece of meat."

Chewbacca seconded that motion with enthusiastic barks, and suggested they get a few platters and pass them around.

"Oh, good idea, Chewie," Rey said. "He said we should share," she translated for Poe.

"Fine with me," Poe said, skipping to the page with hot dishes. "General? You joining us?"

Luke and Leia both ended up with simple sandwiches and salads, while Poe, Rey and Chewbacca passed around huge platters of grilled meats, vegetables and rice. Rey could not remember eating so well in her entire life. She couldn't stop grinning. She felt unbelievably lucky. Invincible.

* * *

The post-lunch plan was to divide into two groups. Luke and Poe wanted to explore the vast spaceport while Chewie would accompany Leia and Breha on their shopping expedition. But before they parted, Poe snuck away with Rey, ostensibly to look at jewelry, but really just because he hadn't kissed her in hours and he thought he might go mad if he didn't.

"We'll be back soon," Poe told the group.

Chewie barked a question.

"No, you don't need to come along," Rey assured him. "We'll be right around the corner."

The Wookiee exchanged a look with Leia, who waved her hand dismissively. "Let them have a few minutes," she suggested.

Luke was looking at the sprawling Royal Palace, rising gracefully out of the side of a cliff. It was no more than a kilometer away. "Do you think our mother ever walked right here, on this street?" he mused to his sister.

"Sure, maybe," Leia said. "Do you feel closer to her since we got here?"

Before he could answer, an elderly couple approached them. The lady spoke. "Pardon me, Your Highness?" She curtsied quickly but respectfully. "You are Princess Leia, aren't you?"

Leia smiled, nodded and slipped automatically back into the mannerisms of her youth. Luke watched her. He was in awe of her, always had been. How could she shift gears so easily? No matter how sad, angry or traumatized his sister ever was, she could instantly turn the charm on and chat graciously with strangers.

So engrossed was Luke in watching his sister act like a princess, he didn't even notice the strange bubble, the absence of any sense of the Force coming from a five-meter radius. And so for two crucial minutes, he didn't notice that Rey had suddenly disappeared. Until he saw the shuttlecraft lift off.


	12. There Are Many Kinds of Confinement

**Before we start this much-darker chapter, I'd like to apologize in advance to all my Scottish readers. You're a lovely, peaceful, friendly people. JJ Abrams was the one who made the Guavian Death Gang the worst guys to ever come out of Scotland, not I. Blame him.**

 **That said, I hope I got Bala-Tik's dialect right.**

* * *

Rey awoke with a start. She was lying on a cold floor with two men hovering above her. One was dressed entirely in black, the other in a dark red jumpsuit. They were appraising her the way Unkar Plutt used to inspect electronics: greedily, possessively. She turned her head to the side and focused on their heavy boots and the armored shin guards covering them. Then her eyes sensed a movement off to her left. Poe was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the metal bars— _we're in a cell,_ Rey realized—with his arms uncomfortably pulled behind him. His hands were outside the bars, tied together with stuncuffs. His eyes tracked her, his expression unreadable. She looked questioningly at him; when that got no response, she stretched out with the Force.

Nothing. She couldn't feel him. Couldn't sense anything at all.

After four months of training of Ahch-To with Luke and another few months back on D'Qar, Rey had become accustomed to the comforting presence of the Force around her. Its sudden absence made anxiety blossom in her stomach.

"Well, look who's awake," the man in black sneered. "Hello." His accent was northern Core, with a long, drawn out O. "Welcome to the Guavian Death Gang. Ever been captured by pirates before, lass?" She said nothing. "You're probably wondering why your Jedi tricks aren't working, hm? See that lizard over there?" He gestured at a small greenish animal in a meter-wide cage. "That's a ysalamiri. It blocks the Force. Keeps you nice and sweet for me." He knelt down next to her, ran a finger down the side of her face and over her breast, stopping at her belly. "Very sweet." Almost gently, he fingered the soft material of her tunic, the tunic that Poe had said he liked; then, with abrupt violence, the pirate took the shirt in both hands and ripped it in half. Rey yelped, flipped herself over and crawled away quickly, looking around desperately for a weapon. Adrenaline coursed through her.

"You'd better just caw canny, boss," the man in red said with a leer. "She ain't goin' nowhere."

Finding Red in front of her, she aimed above the shin guards and punched him in the kneecap. He shouted a curse, yanked Rey up and pinned her arms behind her. She leaned backwards against him, using his weight to propel herself up and deliver a flying kick to the other attacker's midsection. The black coat he was wearing must have been lined with armor, though, because the kick didn't have as much effect as she wanted. His eyes gleamed darkly. "Oh, no, you don't get to hit Bala-Tik. Amn't I being clear enough with you?" He stalked forward and punched the side of her head hard enough to make her vision go fuzzy. _His gloves are armored, too,_ Rey thought hazily. She half-turned and raised an elbow, aiming for his nose, but he bashed her again, this time above the cheek. She dropped heavily to her knees.

"That's far better, now," he told her approvingly. "Here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna beat you for that little stunt, then my friend and I are gonna kriff you, then I'll be handing you over to the First Order and picking up the nice little bounty Kylo Ren put on you. Got it? That's what's happenin' to you." He took off his dark coat, revealing an equally-black shirt underneath. He kept the gloves on. He glanced at Red. "Give me your belt."

They alternated between punching and whipping her. The belt was made of tough canvas and burrowed into the soft flesh of her back. The metal buckles thudded dully when they hit bone. Rey was vaguely aware of someone yelling, cursing the pirates, their mothers and their gods, but decided not to investigate who was shouting.

Instead, she retreated into herself and into that Republic Army surplus tent on Raju III. It was still raining hard, but the thunder was now only distantly rumbling. Poe had announced his intention of kissing every single centime of her body. He was working on her left hand, starting with the sensitive tip of her pinkie and moving down. His fingers entwined with hers, while his thumb rubbed her palm. His lips were very soft. His gentle gaze alternated between her hand and her eyes.

"This kissing mission of yours is going to take months," she said teasingly.

"We've got months," he murmured.

"I don't think I can stay in this tent that long," Rey suggested. She was sprawled on top of him, and his free hand was idly caressing her back.

"Yeah, at some point, we're going to have to go hunting. I'll need some real food."

"Such a typical man thing to say."

Poe grinned at her through her fingers. "Am I a typical man?"

She scrunched her nose and considered. "Well…maybe not entirely, not in every aspect. You're a pretty good man."

" _Pretty_ good?" He finished a second finger and moved his hand to her shoulders. "You have such a strong back. All that climbing and scavenging. I can feel all your muscles." He rolled her gently to his side and began kneading her neck and shoulders.

"Hey, what about the rest of my fingers?" she pouted, although the backrub felt just as good.

"Boss, Kylo Ren is on board and demands to speak with you. Right now."

Rey was jolted back into the present. She was face down, nose pressed into the permacrete floor. Her body felt like it was on fire. But the men had stopped.

"Tell him I'll be with him in ten minutes, Jonas," the pirate said. He dropped the belt on the ground and knelt next to her prone form, pulling her hips towards him.

"I don' think he'd be taking too kindly to that, boss," said Jonas. "He reminds you that the bounty is 15,000 on the girl and 5,000 on the Resistance pilot who escaped custody, but that if you damage the prisoners, he'll cut you in half. In half, he said. He sounds pretty angry."

 _Can he feel me? Does he know what's happening to me?_ Rey had never before considered the possibility that Kylo Ren—her big brother—could feel her Force presence. And might care about her.

 _Is he angry because they're hurting me?_

"Well, damn," Bala-Tik said, still looking down at the prone mass lying before him. "I was just getting to the good part. I'm swithering between this very bonny girl and Ren's ugly mug." He considered both options, then stood up in frustration. "I'll go talk to him. Don't you be doing her without me," he added to his colleague in red.

"How no?" Red complained to his retreating superior. He beckoned his colleague Jonas over as he sat down next to Rey. "You don't talk much, do you? You don' even scream." He pulled her hair, turning her face towards him, then leaned in close to her. "Maybe we can make you scream." His breath was foul. His hands were on her.

"You two. Get up." A flat, muffled voice entered the room. Kylo Ren.

The red-dressed pirate immediately rose to his feet. "Welcome to our shi—"

He never finished the sentence. She heard the snap-hiss of a lightsaber, then the thud of a body hitting the ground. And another body. Rey thought desperately of Poe. She opened one eye—the other was swollen shut—and was relieved to see him still sitting upright. He looked at her and managed to smile tightly.

There was an inhuman squeal—the lizard thing, she guessed—and with one more slash of the lightsaber, the Force was suddenly back, sweeping over her like a wave in Ahch-To's ocean. She felt the warmth of Poe, as well as a stormy presence: powerful, angry, conflicted.

She raised her head and looked at the masked creature who had once been her brother. "Ben?" she croaked.

He was staring at her. She felt the discord within him. He didn't seem to know what to do next.

She heard footsteps in the corridor, and felt rather than saw who entered. Her mother and Chewbacca. Kylo Ren's uncertainty deepened. Rey felt more emotions darting out of him: regret, betrayal, sadness, abandonment, and…something else aimed at his mother…a sort of pleading.

"Oh, Ben, what have you done?" Leia breathed, managing to sound loving, heartbroken and disappointed at the same time.

"I didn't do anything to her," Kylo Ren said defensively.

Poe piped up from his corner. "He didn't touch her. It was the pirates." Rey wondered idly why he was defending Kylo Ren, like a boy supporting a friend in trouble with his mother.

"The pirates whom _you_ hired?" Leia shot back at Ren.

"They went against orders," he explained, then distractedly turned his head towards the door. He felt someone in the corridor. "Skywalker," he said softly. "He finally came back to you?"

Leia chose not to engage him anymore. "We're taking Breha and Poe," she informed Kylo Ren in a tone of voice Rey already knew well. Poe and Snap called it 'General Organa's don't fuck with me voice.'

Ren apparently knew that tone of hers too. Without arguing, he flicked his wrist in Poe's direction, and the cuffs fell off. "Take him. You always wanted a son who loved piloting."

Rey didn't see her mother's reaction to that. Furry arms picked her up, snuggled her. Her addled mind registered the word _Chewbacca,_ and she passed out.

For several painful minutes, Kylo Ren stood still in the cell, very much alone.

* * *

Poe was massaging her back with some sort of oil. It didn't smell good. "I like the other lotion better," she said groggily.

"This is bacta gel," he explained with patience. "It'll help your wounds heal faster."

"But at some point, we'll have to go hunting."

"Okay," he whispered indulgently.

"He's my brother," she confessed to Poe.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out. It's okay. I understand."

She took a deep breath, then decided that was a terrible idea. "It hurts to breathe. Stop poking me."

"Nobody's poking you. Some of your ribs are broken, but they'll heal. You'll be just fine."

"The floor's moving. We in hyperspace?" Rey was so confused. She tried to sit up, and decided that was another terrible idea.

"Yeah, we're on the _Falcon._ Don't worry about anything," Poe soothed. "We're almost home."

"The _Falcon?_ Maybe Daddy will take me flying tomorrow. I like it when he lets me steer. I sit on his lap so I can reach the controls."

Poe had no reply for that. His throat constricted when he thought about a baby Rey piloting with Han Solo. "Just sleep now, Breha."

"Don't leave."

"I won't," he promised.

"Don't leave me on Jakku."

"I won't leave your side."

"My side hurts," she mumbled. "I love you."

He bent his head down and kissed her one unbruised temple. "I love you, too."


	13. Inside Voices (Leia and Kylo)

**DaughterOfAthena2 called me out the last chapter, wanting much more of a conversation between Kylo and Leia. Yes, I know. I'll have to put them in the same room at some point…but the pirate ship wasn't the time or place for it. There was no time for the Solos to discuss it in committee. ;)**

 **Instead, I present to you their** _ **internal**_ **conversation about each other. I hope Athena is at least partially placated. (4/9/16: She wasn't placated yesterday, so this is take 2. Lengthened and hopefully improved.)  
**

* * *

 **Leia**

Nothing like a lit lightsaber to help clear a corridor. Those Guavian Death Gang guys turned into a bunch of scared baby pittins as soon as Luke turned the saber on, so we got back to the _Falcon_ much more easily than I'd anticipated. Not that it would have been a problem. I wasn't leaving that pirate ship without Breha. It took me fifteen years to get that girl back; there is no way in any planet's hell I'm losing her again.

Han and Chewie have done business with that gang before. They've probably done business with every gang from here to Wild Space, I assume, and Chewie always thoughtfully leaves a little tracking device on their ships. Just in case they come calling unexpectedly, I suppose. So once we identified the Guavians as the ones who kidnapped Rey and Poe, it wasn't hard catching up to them.

Thank goodness for Chewie. He knew exactly what to do. Standing there on Naboo, watching a shuttle take off with my baby on board, I sort of froze. I never get paralyzed into inaction like that. Never, except today. Watching her being carried away, though, brought me right back to that horrible morning on Hosnian Prime. The morning I lost her and Anakin. Two in one day. That pain was worse than Alderaan. It ripped my heart out of my body, shredded my spirit.

Today, I finally got to rescue her the way I'd fantasized about for fifteen years. Just board a ship, find her, snatch her away from the bad guys, and bring her home.

I just…well…in all those fantasies, I never expected seeing _him_ there.

When Han saw Ben on Takodana, he looked as pale as milk. "I saw him, Leia. He was here." He couldn't say anything more than that, so shaken up he was by the vision. His voice trembled. Now I get why. It's one thing to see fuzzy vids of "Kylo Ren" on the Holonet, quite another to see him in person. In a mask. In a black cape. Wanting so badly to emulate Vader.

He took my breath away.

I can picture Ben at different ages, different moods. Fascinated by a butterfly in the garden, pouting when we took away a toy, laughing with his father and brother, brow furrowed in concentration when he was learning to walk, showing uncharacteristic tenderness for a teenager as he tucked the baby into her crib, learning to hold a lightsaber, holding back tears when that cute girl told him she liked him "only as a friend." I can picture him as an infant, only calm when he was in my arms, tiny fingers wrapped around mine, eyes closed to show off those dark eyelashes of his.

I have a thousand of these images stored in my mind, along with the images I'd like to forget. Like the absolute look of abandonment he gave me when I sent him away to train with Luke. For his protection, I stressed to him. He could not be kidnapped. I couldn't lose another child. I thought he'd understand eventually; a part of him already got it.

What in hell had happened to him?

'You always wanted a son who loved piloting,' he just said to me. Why did he always think he wasn't what I wanted? He used to accuse me of that, even when he was ten. Every time I smiled at something Ani did, he'd ask me if I loved his little brother more than I loved him. Are all siblings jealous of each other and so insecure in their parents' love? I grew up as an only child; as far as I knew, my parents never wished for me to be anything other than what I was. But I knew they loved it when I acted like them, or said something that sounded like something they'd say. Ben always went his own way, similar to neither Han nor me. I loved that uniqueness, but I guess I didn't tell him that enough. Anakin was the child that turned out just like Han, and Ben knew it. The scrappy little scoundrel who adored flying and tinkering with electronics. Even Breha liked that stuff. Ben never followed his father around the _Falcon_ like a curious little Ewok. The other two did.

Not too long after That Day—the day Ani was killed and Breha was abducted—Ben got angry at us. He had a right to be. We had completely lost it. We were being terrible parents, neglecting his needs, furious at each other, locked in our own private nightmares of guilt and pain. I remember Ben crying, screaming at us. Trying to get our attention. "The kids you _really_ loved were the ones who died," he'd bawled. "Too bad you're just left with me. The mistake. The one you didn't plan. The embarrassment."

Fourteen years old, hormones raging, family torn to shreds…of course he was upset. I wrote it off. Did I even tell him he wasn't a mistake? That he was exactly the son I wanted, that I was proud of him? _I don't even remember_. How can I not remember? There are so many things you want to tell teenagers, and they just don't make it easy. He was so sulky. I always figured he'd eventually grow out of it, and then we'd have a nice long talk. I didn't realize my silence would hurt him worse than any words could. I didn't realize—

No excuses, though. I screwed up as a mother. I've never screwed up anything in my whole life as badly as motherhood.

And I'm not better at it now. I walked into that cell today, and couldn't even say a civil 'hello' to the son I haven't seen in years. _But he was torturing her._ Seeing Rey on that floor, a bloody mess, shirt ripped in half, hair tousled…I saw myself on the Death Star. On Ord Mantell. On Cloud City. I saw a tall black-robed figure looming over her, cape hiding his body and mask hiding his face. It was a scene straight out of my nightmares, and I can't believe I didn't crumble onto the ground right there.

I made it all the way into the ship before I crumbled. I'm curled up on the cold floor of cargo bay #3, this little dingy space I haven't seen in years, avoiding Luke and everyone else. This is the cargo bay that held random old crates and boxes; Han and I used to come here to escape Chewie, Threepio and whomever else we wanted to hide from. Once, during a nightmare, I even sleepwalked my way in here. At some point on the trip from Hoth to Bespin, Han had brought in cushions and blankets to make it cozy. Our private retreat. We spent hours in here. We memorized each other's bodies in here.

I can't think about this. I will not think about this. Otherwise, I'll never pull myself up and out of despair. I have to focus on our son.

How can I get Ben back? How am I ever going to tell him all the things I should have said when he was fourteen?

How am I going to save him?

* * *

 **Kylo Ren**

She barely even looked at me. I was (and I remain) just an impediment, an annoying obstacle between her and the ones she loves. That Resistance pilot, how perfectly he fits her ideal man. Self-confident, casually good-looking, a space jockey devoted to her precious Resistance. Like Anakin if he had ever grown up. Like Han Solo. She looked at Poe Dameron like she was actually concerned for his well-being.

I wonder what he means to her. Her lover? Impossible, he's much too young for her. And…I wonder if she ever had a lover, after He abandoned her. I felt her anguish in the Force when her husband died. The pain bounced between him and Breha and Leia and me. I'm not even sure whose pain it was, but I think it was mostly hers. And the second wave, the one from her clearly aimed right at me: white hot anger, even hatred. If she had been in front of me then, she probably would have killed her own son.

Maybe the pilot is Breha's lover. That thought does not sit well with me. I can't even consider that one.

My mother didn't even say hello to me. It's been years, and she didn't say hello. Ben, what have you done? That's all she could manage for me. She meant: what have you done to my little girl? She's not even a child anymore, but Leia still sees her as one. She feels unbelievably protective towards Breha, even though she didn't raise the girl and hardly knows her now. Truly, she shouldn't mean anything to our family anymore. A scavenger from some desert planet with Skywalker talents and Solo blood. Leia raised me—well, part-time, at least—but she doesn't feel that level of devotion to me. She feels no devotion to me at all. I don't know what she feels for me. She hid her feelings impressively well today. I could feel her concern for Breha, but nothing towards me. No love. She could have reached out to me, even a tiny bit.

Still, Breha. I like her. She stood up to me when she had no idea who I was. I considered telling her on Starkiller Base. _You need a teacher,_ I told her, for she does. I could have added: _let your brother teach you._ Maybe she wouldn't have believed me then. But she knows now; she called me Ben today. I wonder if she remembers me at all. She must. I taught her so many things, when our parents were off on yet another diplomatic or military or joyriding mission. They missed huge chunks of her childhood. I was there when Breha learned to crawl. I was playing with her on a red and blue patterned blanket, in the greatroom of our apartment on Hosnian Prime, and she suddenly scooted right off the blanket. She crossed the room on her elbows, grabbed a toy, then looked at me and smiled in triumph. She smiled at _me,_ not at our stupid absent parents.

I liked her gritty determination when she was a baby, and she still has that quality. I can sense her in the Force, warm and strong and unyielding. It's funny that she calls herself Rey. That was Ani's nickname for her. Does she remember him? It annoys me that she might remember more of him than of me. I was the older one, I took care of her. He was just four when she was born. Or five? Five, I guess. Seeing Breha brings up so many memories of Ani that I'd buried. When my mother said, "We're taking Breha and Poe," Ani would have haughtily added, "…and it is _not_ open for negotiation." She has a certain tone of voice, and when she used it on the two of us boys, we knew that was the end of the discussion. So Ani, always the rascal, used to add that phrase, mimicking her. We'd surrender, but at least we'd get a laugh out of it.

Doesn't my mother see me at all? She's never really understood me, and I don't know why I keep expecting differently. I was protecting Breha. I killed those pirates who assaulted her. _I_ killed them. She did not. I was defending Breha the same way I used to defend my mother when she fought with her husband—has she forgotten that? Has she forgotten that I sided with her, that I was there for her when that sonofabitch father of mine left her? She should know I wouldn't let anything bad happen to my little sister, and yet her first thought was that _I_ was the one who beat her, or got her beaten. Why wasn't my mother watching the girl? You'd think that after falling down on the parenting job so very badly, she and Chewie would both be over-protective. But they haven't learned.

I let Breha go today. Was that a mistake? Snoke will beat me when I get back, knowing I failed to bring her to him. I'll be beaten worse than my sister. I don't mind sharing that pain with her; it'll be a strange sort of commiseration. I let her go, because to get her on to my ship, I would have had to fight my way through Leia and Luke. The stormtroopers could have taken Chewbacca out, but not those twins.

I don't think I could have done it. Or, rather: I don't think I can do it.

I've read all about the Sith code and their training, which requires the sacrifice of a loved one. I'm not a Sith—I'm my own man—but the Supreme Leader methodically explained to me why my father had to die in order to bring peace to the galaxy, so I did it. I cannot do it again. Not even to Chewie. That Wookiee rocked me to sleep too many times. He understood me better than anyone else in my childhood, and he was almost always around to listen and give me advice. He could have blown my head off on Starkiller Base, and maybe he should have, but he chose to aim at my side. He can't kill his "cub" any more than I can kill him.

Luke? I wouldn't mind killing my uncle. The First Order will never reign as long as he is around to train a new generation of Jedi, so it will eventually have to be done. But I don't think I'm able to accomplish it, yet. The Supreme Leader doesn't think I'm ready. Maybe with his help, or my sister's help, some day.

And my mother...is still my mother. I can't. My father and I were never that close; we had nothing in common, and I always felt like a disappointment to him. When he left us, my apathy towards him turned into rage. _He abandoned us._ I wasn't mad at my mother, just heartbroken for her. It's different. I know she abandoned me too, to Luke, but she at least had understandable reasons. And I did get some Jedi training out of the deal. She loved me well once, though she's gone cold towards me now. When I joined the Knights of Ren, she started her Resistance. Against me. She declared war on me. All right. She reacted the way I expected her to—we're not dissimilar, she and I—and taking Han Solo away from her was probably not the best way for me to ingratiate myself with her. So fine, we're at war. And I will destroy planets and decapitate her soldiers to win that war. But I can't kill her. I still love her.

How could she stop loving her own son? If I had children, I'd never give up on them like she has. I should get Breha away from that woman, for her own good. Our mother will only break her heart. She took mine and wrung it dry.

But I couldn't kill her, so I let Breha go today. Perhaps my mother will realize why. Perhaps she'll realize I gave her a gift. Two gifts, really—her life, and her daughter's. I let her take the golden child home, fix Rey's broken bones, heal all the boo-boos.

Take her home, mother. And that pilot too. They're the ones you want.

What else can I do to please you?


	14. Laying It On the Line

"You're all dismissed, except Blue Squadron," Leia called. "Please stay behind."

Dameron exchanged a curious look with the seven other pilots. Once the other officers had left the briefing room, Leia approached them and spoke softly.

"I have a mission for you, but it's nonstandard, so you're all absolutely free to decline." She took a breath. "The Guavian Death Gang has gone from being just a dangerous organized crime syndicate to being an unofficial arm of the First Order. They've twice betrayed our people to Snoke, and that's twice too many times. Chewbacca has placed a tracker on their leader's ship. I want you to intercept them and take them out."

"Warn them or disable them?" innocently asked Brigitte Danae, the newest recruit to the squadron.

"Destroy them," Organa said coldly.

Poe caught her eye, and smiled humorlessly. "Copy that." Hell yes, he copied that. He was beyond ready for action. He'd sat in a medical center for two and a half days, trying to act cheerful for Rey while seesawing between tenderness and seething anger. He looked at the other pilots. "Are we all in?"

"Hooyah," "yes, ma'am," and nods of acknowledgement followed.

Snap Wexley, a veteran of Blue Squadron, raised a finger. "A question about, uh, organized crime, General?"

"Go ahead."

"Is it true that you once killed a crime lord with your bare hands? I heard that somewhere."

Leia raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember doing that."

Poe snorted. "I heard that one, too, except in the version I got, it was a Hutt she killed." He glanced at the General's diminutive frame doubtfully.

Leia's lips curled up. "Oh, _that_ crime lord. Yeah, that's true."

The pilots stilled, stopped breathing, and stared at her, waiting for elaboration.

"Jabba the Hutt. He'd captured me and dressed me as a slave girl, you know, with a collar and a chain leash. So I threw the chain around his neck and pulled." She demonstrated with her hands as she spoke.

Jess Pava, awestruck, asked softly, "You killed him because he made you dress skimpily?"

"No," Leia clarified, "I _enjoyed_ it because he made me dress skimpily. I killed him because he was cruel to Han Solo, who was my boyfriend." She eyed Poe as she continued. "I'm very protective towards those close to me."

"Boss," Wexley whispered.

"Any other questions?" Leia said innocently.

"No, ma'am," said Poe, the only pilot who could find his voice.

She looked straight at him and smiled tightly. "Don't miss."

* * *

A day later, Poe returned—mission accomplished, targets neutralized, mood improved—and went to the medical center to check in with Breha. He stopped short at her empty cot.

"Looking for Rey?" asked the ever-patient Doctor Kalonia.

"Yes, Major." Of course he was looking for Rey. He'd spent every possible minute at her bedside since they'd arrived back from Naboo. He had promised not to leave her, and he was a man of his word. He'd even slept on the floor next to her gurney, just in case she woke up scared in the middle of the night.

"She was released this morning," said the doctor with a smile. "She was restless; she needed to move around. But Commander, please make sure she lets those rib fractures heal. Don't overdo it."

Poe wondered what she was implying, but just gave her a polite "Yes, doctor," on the way out.

He finally found Rey in the mess hall, sipping something hot out of a large mug. He was relieved to see her vertical, dressed, and looking pretty normal except for the bruises on her face. They were fading, but still noticeable. Her shoulders were slumped, making her look slightly defeated. But at least she had good company.

"Hey, pilot!" Finn greeted him, pushing an empty chair out for him. "Where've you been?"

Poe crossed the room with an easy grace. He smiled at his friend and caressed Rey's cheek with the back of his hand as he sat down. She flinched from his touch, then caught herself and smiled slightly at him.

"Hi yourselves." Poe helped himself to the half-empty bowl of snacks on the table. To answer Finn's question, he said, "Blue squadron had a mission." He looked meaningfully at Rey, and lowered his voice. "The Guavian Death Gang is no more."

Finn shook his head in confusion. "You were fighting pirates?"

"Yeah, something like that. How about you two? Anything going on?"

"Not much," Finn answered in his usual bubbly way. "I have my level 3 flying proficiency test tomorrow, and if I pass it, which is pretty doubtful, I'll be able to pilot the transport ships. But my last practice with the simulator went so bad, Poe, I flew right through a flock of ducks, then lost control and crashed the ship into a tree. So I'd put my chances of passing at about 10,000 to 1. I think Nien Nunb started a betting pool—not whether I'll pass, but how low my score will be. And it's—"

While Finn chattered on, Poe looked at the mute woman across from him, trying to gauge her mood. ' _What's wrong?'_ he thought at her.

Rey finished her hot chocolate and interrupted softly. "Sorry, Finn. Could I borrow Poe for a while? You really should be re-running the sim. About ten more times."

Finn nodded amiably. "Sure, take him. Do either of you have any parting advice about piloting transport ships?"

Standing, the two exchanged a look. "Avoid ducks," Poe offered.

"Avoid trees," Rey echoed, finally showing a little pep.

Finn smirked. "You guys are a huge help, thanks."

* * *

Rey led Poe through the command center and out to the landing strip. Once they were away from the curious stares of X-Wing technicians, she took his hand. "Could we take a walk? I haven't been outside for days."

He nodded. "Since Naboo, probably." He smiled at her. "How about a hike through a jungle? Maybe this time without the thunderstorm?"

"Good plan. Have you got a tent?"

Poe stopped in his tracks. Now _that_ was a great idea. "No, but I can go back and get one."

"No," she demurred. "I don't think we're allowed to leave base like that. And I need a soft bed for a few more days."

"Wimp."

"I've got three broken ribs," she argued good-naturedly.

"Yeah, that's a pretty lame excuse. Though the doctor told me to not overdo it with you. What d'you think _that_ meant?"

She looked at him innocently, with big round doe eyes. "I've no idea. But it probably means no sex in a tent for a while."

They walked through the humid forest for a little while more, chatting casually while avoiding the real topic on their minds. Finally Rey saw a suitable downed tree, and motioned Poe over. They sat facing each other on the moss-covered log.

"I've been avoiding you," Rey confessed.

"Oh. Why? Something I did?" She shook her head. "Something I didn't do?"

"No, no," she assured him. "You've been great. Very thoughtful, really." She paused. "I'm really glad you were with me on that ship. I felt much stronger with you there."

"I was tied up. I didn't help you at all," he protested. "I so wanted to."

"You yelled at them for me. That _was_ you, wasn't it? Yelling at the pirates while they…hit me?" She looked away from Poe, focusing on the heavy green leaves of the trees above. They swayed gently in the breeze. "I didn't need to scream, because you were doing that for me. But I've been avoiding you," she went on, "because I don't want you to see my back." She swallowed a lump. "I want you to think of me as…pretty. Not with all the bruises and marks I've got now."

Poe moved closer to her, took her face in her hands, kissed her deeply on the mouth. She kissed him back, hopeful. "That doesn't matter," he soothed. "Your back was a bloody mess on the way back to D'Qar; do you remember me taking care of you? I saw it. But it doesn't matter. The scars'll fade. You'll be fine." He punctuated each sentence with a kiss—her eyes, cheek, nose, forehead. His hands continued to hold her face close.

"Also, I can't sleep for more than an hour at a time. I can't get comfortable; every part of me aches. And I keep having bad dreams."

"Okay," Poe mulled that one over. "So you don't want to sleep next to me, because you think you'd wake me up?"

"I'd definitely wake you up."

"But I could help you when you have nightmares. What if you slept in my bed, and I just slept on the couch?"

"Our couch?" she said, remembering the night of the party. She shook her head. "It's too small for you."

"So I'll sleep on the floor." She looked doubtful. "I just want to be near you," he pleaded in a whisper. "Let me take care of you."

Rey pulled away from his gentle hands, and leaned back on the log. "I don't want you to see me like this. Like I am now. I'd rather be alone…except that…Pamich and Kaydel, they said you don't go very long without.…" She trailed off.

"Without what?"

"Without, you know. A woman. And I don't want you to…get tired of waiting for me…and move on," she finished brokenly.

Poe wasn't sure whether to be indignant or reassuring. "Look, Pamich and Kaydel don't even know me. And they certainly don't know how I feel about you."

"Didn't you sleep with Pamich once?" She sounded more curious than accusatory, but it still irked Poe.

"Yeah, _once,_ ten parsecs away and two years ago. It was just, you know, casual. We were bored on a mission, stuck on a freighter. It was nothing. She's nice, but…." He shook his head. "It was nothing." She was still leaning away from him. He moved forward to take her hands in his, gently but firmly. "I don't know how to explain this to you again any differently. This isn't like that, okay? You and I, this, what we…for me, _this_ is not _that._ You know?"

Rey knit her brow. "Maybe you could explain it differently in a different way?"

"Yeah," he laughed shortly at his incoherence. _Be direct,_ Poe told himself. He took a deep breath and launched. "I want to be near you because I like being with you, and I miss you when you're not around, and because you need someone to take care of you right now and I want to be that person. I don't want to sleep with you. I mean, I do, but not to have sex. Definitely not if you're in pain. And I don't care how long it takes you to get better, I'm not gonna get bored, and I'm certainly not going to move on to someone else. I don't _want_ anyone else.

"When I was fifteen, I had my first girlfriend. After a while, things, uh, progressed, and I told my dad I'd made love with a girl. And he just laughed at me and said, 'No, you didn't.' He told me that there was a difference between sex and love. Having sex, he said, is using someone else's body to please yourself, and making love is using your body to please someone else. And by that definition, Breha, I've made love to nobody but you. And I really, truly don't want anyone else." He stopped, out of breath and ideas.

For the entirety of the speech, Rey had been staring at him, slack-jawed. Now she nodded slowly. "I see. So _this_ isn't _that_."

He blinked. "Yeah, that's what I said before."

She laughed, and dropped his hands in order to move into his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on her favorite part of his shoulder. "Okay, then," she murmured.

Poe instinctively started to embrace her, then thought better of touching her back, so he just placed his hands on the outside of her thighs and buried his face in her hair. After a few minutes of breathing in the intoxicating smell of her shampoo, he broke the silence. "Should we go back before Chewbacca starts panicking?"

"Oh, yes," Rey belatedly remembered. _Poor Chewie must be beside himself._ He'd sat in the medical bay for the entire three days she was there, guarding his cub. She'd felt guilt and self-condemnation radiating from her Wookiee friend; on Naboo, he'd failed to protect her. Again.

"And you can sleep anywhere you want," Poe assured her.

"And you can tell me about that fifteen year-old girl," she replied in kind.

He grinned. "Jealous?"

"Of course."

He bit his lower lip and looked her up and down. "You shouldn't be." He patted her leg as he rose. "Let's go back. I'll tell you about her on the way."


	15. Nights (Don't Skywalkers Ever Sleep?)

That night, Rey slept in her own quarters, in her own bed. After a few hours fitfully tossing and turning, she gave up and spent the rest of the night prowling around, exploring the family holovids and holograms that Leia kept in the common room. Then she decided to make herself hot chocolate, but pulled one too many mugs out of the cupboard, leading to a spectacular crash. That of course woke her mother up, so they ended up drinking and talking until dawn.

The second night, Rey dreamed of being beaten while Poe and Kylo Ren stood over her, watching without emotion. She ended up sobbing wordlessly in her mother's arms.

The day after that, Luke noticed that Leia and Rey looked equally sleep-deprived and drained, and decided his apprentice had had enough time off. He took her out to the forest after breakfast for a meditation session, during which she fell asleep while sitting cross-legged, head drooped forward into her lap. Luke stretched her out on the ground, draped his robe over her, and meditated silently while she slept.

Luke was accustomed to shielding his presence from dark-side Force users like Snoke and the self-styled Knights of Ren. At this point, it was automatic; while in exile, he'd even shielded his thoughts from Leia. But today, he considered reaching out to his nephew. They had sensed each other aboard the Guavian Death Gang's ship; he knew Luke had returned and could certainly assume he'd be on D'Qar, so there was no more point in hiding. Besides, he was curious to see just how far his former apprentice had fallen since killing his father.

Luke sent his thoughts out, crossing light years of empty space. _Ben?_ he thought. _How are you?_

Silence. He homed in on Ben's presence in the Force. It was quieter than an active mind should be. He was sleeping. Luke reached deeper, concentrating on the wisps of thought and memory in the boy's dreams. Agitation. Fear. Regret. Anger. Ambivalence.

Luke's hopes soared at the latter emotion. He could temper the anger, as long as that indecision remained. Ben still felt torn between his supposed duty to Snoke and his love for his mother. Perhaps he loved Breha, too. Good. Luke could use that. He could still sway his lost nephew, bring him back into the light. He sent positive thoughts toward Ben: love, fatherly concern, hope, friendship, solidarity, sympathy. Even while sleeping, perhaps the boy would internalize those feelings. Anything to make him feel closer to his family.

* * *

After her long nap in the forest, Rey felt less exhausted but painfully sore. She'd been right to inform Poe that there would be no sleeping bags in tents for a while; every part of her body ached. That night, after yet another bad dream had woken both her and her mother, Leia let Rey stretch out on her comfy double bed. The princess sat up against the headboard, Rey's troubled head in her lap. She stroked her daughter's hair and began a story.

"When I was your age, I'd already been through a lot. My parents were killed on Alderaan when I was nineteen, along with my aunts, friends, and pretty much everyone I'd ever known. I didn't have a home anymore, or anyone who cared about me at all, except maybe for your father, your uncle and the other Rebels…but I'd just met them. They thought of me as a princess, a senator or officer, not a friend. And I was so guarded in those days; I didn't let anyone really get to know me for a long time. Like you were on Jakku, I guess.

"Little by little, though, I dropped my shields and let at least your father and Luke in. And, well, at one point Han, Chewie and I ended up in the _Falcon_ for over a month, running from Imperials without a working hyperdrive. I had a lot of nightmares in those days, but couldn't really hide them from your father, since we were trapped on a ship together. So I woke up screaming one night…."

* * *

Poe opened his door, punch-drunk, rubbing his eyes to clear the cobwebs. Rey was standing there. "Hi," he said, half-asleep but pleased nonetheless.

"My mother kicked me out," she announced. She entered without waiting for an invitation.

"Huh?" Poe watched her walk to his bedroom, and followed her dumbly. "Any particular reason?"

Breha removed the modest jacket she'd be wearing, but kept her silky nightgown on. She crawled into his still-warm bed and patted the space next to her. He obeyed, flopping down casually at her side.

"She thinks I'd sleep better in your arms," Rey explained.

Incredulous, he shook his head. "She did _not_ say that."

"She did, actually. She used to get loads of nightmares, until she finally figured out a cure."

"Which was?"

"Han Solo."

Poe considered waking up completely, in order to have a more rational conversation. He was having trouble following her. The shiny-soft nightgown beckoning him wasn't helping matters. "Okay, then. So I'm playing Han Solo here?"

Rey smiled and nodded. Then she set the ground rules. "I can't sleep on my back or part of my left side. My ribs hurt on the left, and this part of my head does too. So I have to be on my belly or right side—"

He shushed her softly, pulling her close. "Copy that," he whispered, flipping onto his right and curling her around him. His arms encircled her.

She squirmed. "Gently, please. If you hug me, you press my back against you."

He released his embrace, still spooning but with his arm running down the length of her body, fingers brushing her thigh. "Better now?"

"Yeah," she said sleepily. She fervently hoped she'd be able to get some rest. "Good night," she added.

He kissed her ear. "G'night." His breath was warm on her cheek. He brought the blanket up to her neck and tucked it in around her; Poe understood that as a former desert dweller, she was often cold.

Two minutes later, they were both sound asleep.

* * *

Deep in slumber, Poe rolled on top of Rey and nuzzled her neck. Her hands flew up to push his chest away from her, and she awoke with a shriek. "Get off me!"

Yanked out of the very nice dream he was having, Poe sat up with a start. "Okay, okay, okay." He repeated the word like a mantra, trying to calm her. Her eyes were glassy, gaze darting around the room. He stroked her hand, and continued to speak gently. "You're in my quarters, everything's okay, you're okay now. It's dark because it's the middle of the night, but nothing's wrong, you're fine."

BB-8 had matched her shriek with his own, and now rolled over to see what the problem was. "It's okay, buddy," Poe assured the droid, "you can go back to low-power. Rey had a bad dream, but she's just fine now." Beebee's dome swiveled from his master to her and back. Placated, he beeped quietly to himself and returned to his charger in the kitchen.

Rey's eyes settled on Poe, and her shoulders relaxed. He kept holding her hand, stroking her knuckles gently with his thumb. She tried to match her breathing with the slow rhythm of his fingers. After a few deep breaths, she pushed herself up and threw her arms around Poe, kissing him first on the cheek and then the mouth. His lips were soft and welcoming. "Sorry I woke you," she breathed.

"No, my fault. I think I must've pressed into a bruise or something. Anyway, no problem." He lay flat on his back and pulled her on top of him, her belly against his. He could feel her heart pounding, her abdomen still quivering.

She concentrated on stilling herself, then spoke softly into Poe's bare shoulder. "I was dreaming about Jakku. I always felt in danger there. I was constantly stressed, looking over my shoulder, but I'd finally got so used to it that I didn't even notice how tense I always was. On Ahch-To, I learned to relax, so now that I'm nervous again, I guess it's making me remember things."

"What kind of things?"

She thought for a moment, organizing her thoughts. "Nobody was trustworthy on Jakku. When I first arrived on the planet, I didn't know how to get water or shelter or anything. I probably would've died after a day, especially without water, but there was a man who took me in, gave me food and taught me how to find tech. A child can be an asset on Jakku; I was small, so I could fit into the tiny little passages that other scavengers couldn't reach. So I found ship parts for Jacobin, and he shared his earnings with me."

"Sounds like a nice guy," Poe commented.

She paused thoughtfully. "Jacobin saved my life, at the beginning. I really couldn't have made it without some help—which was a problem, because scavengers are rarely helpful. We were all competing against each other all the time. But Jacobin really did help me, at least for a while. By the time I was eight—about eight, maybe a bit older—I started getting a bad feeling about him. I had begun thinking of him as a father, but he…well, he seemed to expect more of me than just crawling into little passageways for him, and I decided to trust my instincts about him. So I took my canteen and two portions of food and just started walking. I went out past the other side of Niima outpost, and found an empty AT-AT. I started living there. He ran into me once, and asked me to 'come back to him,' but I didn't like the way he was looking at me. So I ran. Jacobin never talked to me again, and he was killed not too long after. After that, I almost always kept to myself. So many times, though, my food was stolen, my plunder was stolen, I got hit or slapped by other scavengers. I made my first quarterstaff when I was nine, out of necessity. A little girl just isn't safe in a place like that." She closed her eyes, resting her cheek on Poe's chest. "I got so tired of being on guard all the time, but after a few years, that's all I knew."

Poe kept his eyes tightly closed while he listened, as if that might keep her childhood from being reality. He didn't want to touch her still-bruised back, but he badly needed to hug her, so he settled for wrapping one arm around her hip and burying his other hand in her hair. He kissed her face over and over, trying to erase all her girlhood fears by showering her with affection.

Somehow she understood what he meant, even though he couldn't articulate it. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I'm so sorry you had to grow up like that," he murmured back at her. "You know you're not alone anymore, right? There's literally a whole army here to defend you. And I have your back, always." He kissed her lips gently. "You'll never have to sleep all alone in an AT-AT again."

She gave him a wide, toothy grin, the kind he liked best from her. "It's not so bad, sleeping outside. But tents are better."

"I would've preferred the metal AT-AT. Except maybe in a thunderstorm."

"Ah, my favorite sort of weather."

Poe was relieved to change the subject. _"Favorite?_ As I remember, you were staring wild-eyed at the lightning, expecting to be electrocuted."

"Yeah, but then you told me about…what's it called? The charged particles in the air?"

"Ions."

"Yes, ions. Besides, you were with me. So I wasn't scared after that." Her expression turned solemn. "I'm not scared anymore."

And she wasn't. Rey slept peacefully for the rest of the night.


	16. How to Drive the Neighbors Crazy

After five more nights, two bacta treatments and one final bone-knitting, Rey felt almost like her old self again. Her nightmares had dissipated as Leia had predicted, and the stabbing pains from her ribs only occasionally woke her. On this night, she laid in bed, staring covetingly at Poe. His face was truly beautiful, she decided: long eyelashes, unruly hair, full lips parted gently in his sleep, stubble covering his strong jaw. She let her gaze wander admiringly over his body and concluded he was the finest-looking man she'd ever seen. Not that Jakku had an enormous variety of handsome beings, but even compared to the athletic Resistance fighters, Poe Dameron clearly took first prize. And Rey had trouble believing he was hers.

While she watched Poe, she was also contemplating his father's saying about the definitions of making love and having sex. Which did she do? She suspected the latter; at first, she'd been too inexperienced to know how she might please him, and he tried so hard to make it all about her, so it ended up pretty lopsided. But she could make up for that failing. Rey leaned over him, kissing and caressing every body part she'd been ogling, starting at his forehead and working her way down.

It didn't take long for Poe to awaken.

"Breha?" he murmured.

She smiled into his chest. "I love it when you call me that. Nobody says my name like you do." He reached for her, but she took his hands and returned them to his side. "No, lie back. Don't move at all. Let me play."

Now sweaty and breathing raggedly, Rey had learned plenty of new things about Poe Dameron. She'd found his ticklish spots: on his side just beneath his ribcage and on his earlobe. She'd memorized which places on his skin bore scars and freckles, which parts were smooth and which rougher. She had a better idea of where he liked to be touched gently and where more vigorous caresses were preferable. She'd also learned that keeping a man on the edge of climax for half an hour led to a long, explosive and rather loud conclusion.

Thus she had regained every bit of confidence she'd lost since Naboo.

"I think I liked that," she told Poe triumphantly.

With his face buried in her breast, he mumbled, "Yeah, I 'think' I did too. That was…." Unglued, he couldn't think of a single adjective.

"Do I drive you mad with desire?" she teased.

"Absolutely. I'm all sparkly," he added, using her adjective.

"I like driving you mad."

He lifted his head and looked up at the heavens. "What creature have the gods let loose upon the galaxy?"

"Too bad for the gods and men of the galaxy that I'm not interested in them."

"None of them? There are a lot of men in this galaxy."

"I just want you," she assured him quietly, stroking his face.

Poe curled himself around her. "You've sure as hell got me." He clung to her for the rest of the night.

* * *

The next morning, just as Breha had started a shower—"sparkly but sweaty, all your fault"—there was a thump on the door.

"It's moving day!" Snap Wexley informed Poe cheerily.

"Morning, Snap. Where are we moving? _What_ are we moving?"

"C'mere." He took Poe by the arm and dragged him to the room next door. Snap pointed at his bed. "We're gonna switch the bed with the dresser over there."

Poe looked dubiously at the furniture. "It looks pretty heavy. Why—"

"You see my bed? You know what's on the other side of that wall? Your quarters. I can't take it anymore, Dameron. So you're moving my bed, and you're not gonna complain about it."

"I don't see the problem."

Snap looked incredulously at him for a moment, then mimicked a man in the throes of passion. "Oh Rey! Oh gods! Oh yes! Oh please!"

"Okay, okay," Poe laughed, raising his hands in surrender. He walked over to the bed, looking for handholds.

"Do I get details?"

"No," Poe said curtly. "Not this time."

That was new. "Are you in love with her?" Snap asked, genuinely curious. He ran his hand over his trim beard.

Poe sat on the bed he'd been trying to move. He thought the question over. "Yeah, I am," he confessed. He shrugged helplessly. "I've completely fallen for her."

Wexley raised his eyebrows. "You know, we have a pretty decent chance of getting killed in the foreseeable future."

"All the more reason to dive into relationships when we can."

"That's not what you used to say. In fact, it's the exact opposite of what you used to say."

Poe shrugged again. "I changed my mind. Do you want to move this thing?"

"Have you told her?" Snap ignored the last question.

"No. Well, yes, but she was unconscious at the time, so it doesn't count."

"Can't she just use her Jedi powers and _sense_ it? She is a Jedi, right?"

Snap was his best friend on base, but Poe was nonetheless uncomfortable with this conversation. So he just said, "I don't know, Snap. Are you gonna help me move the bed?"

"Okay," he acquiesced. Together, they lifted the bedframe. "You should tell her, though," he added as a conclusion.

"Hi," said a voice from Wexley's doorway. Both men turned to see Luke Skywalker smiling at them. "Would you guys like some help?"

"Sure," said Poe, nodding, at the same time that Snap shook his head no.

"No, thanks, we've got it," Snap said, thinking of Master Skywalker's thin physique and age.

Luke chose to listen to the commander instead. "Where do you want it?"

Poe pointed. "We're switching this and the dresser."

Luke lifted a hand gracefully, and the furniture rose and floated to its new spot. "Is that about right?" he said mildly.

Wexley's jaw dropped. He'd never actually seen a Jedi use the Force. "Yeah, that's perfect." He grinned at Skywalker. "I was getting really tired of hearing Poe through the wall with—"

"He gets it," Poe interrupted. He was certainly not discussing this matter with Rey's uncle, especially an uncle who always carried a lightsaber. "Okay then. Thanks for the help, Master."

"You can call me Luke," he reminded Poe. Again. "And I do get it. In the Alliance, I had quarters next to Wedge Antilles. You can't imagine the…noise…sometimes."

"You were friends with General Antilles?" Wexley asked, eager to swap war stories.

As Luke sat down to chat, Poe excused himself to return to his room and the freshly-showered woman in it. And tried to stay very quiet.

* * *

Later that day, Kaydel Connix came to Leia's quarters with her arms full of shopping bags. Unbeknownst to Rey, her mother the general had sent Kaydel off to complete their previously-aborted mission: to go buy clothes. Rey was delighted to have pretty things to wear now, including some silky-soft nightgowns that she thought Commander Dameron might like.

"So, your presence in the Force is clearer to me now," Rey observed that night in his quarters, having just emerged from the 'fresher wearing an elegant ice-blue nightgown. "You're not just orange anymore. Now you're like a…you know those stars you see occasionally in the night sky, the ones that blink?"

Poe moved to stand in front of her. He ran his hands up and down her body, mentally mapping her curves like a cartographer with his star-charts. "A pulsating star, you mean?"

"Yeah, what's that called?"

"A pulsar. It's short for 'pulsating star.'"

She grinned at him. "Oh. That makes sense."

"So," he said wonderingly, "I'm like a pulsar in the Force for you?"

Breha leaned over to brush his lips with hers, then trailed kisses across his jaw and neck. When she looked back at him, he was staring at her as if she personally had hung all the pulsars in the sky. She lowered her eyes, blushing from the heat of his gaze. Her insides turned liquid as he took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, insistently. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him, pulling herself as close as she could to him. He moaned into her mouth, then broke away.

"Do you want me to tell you more about pulsars?" he offered. "'Cause I can talk more about pulsars, if you like pulsars."

She laughed at their private joke and shook her head. "Every time you lecture me on science, bad things happen."

"Bad?"

"Well, good."

"Yeah, lecturing does seem to have an interesting effect on you. I just tell you this stuff because you seem to have missed some science classes."

"I missed _all_ the classes. I never went to school."

"Well, you're doing very well in Master Skywalker's Jedi courses. And in our, uh, human anatomy class, you're definitely the teacher's pet."

Rey laughed. "Oh, am I?" she grinned broadly. "Show me why."

Poe looked speculatively at her, biting his lip. "Let's see, where shall we start tonight? First, we need to take this off." He fingered her soft nightgown, ran his hand from her shoulder to breast to hip.

"But I just put it on," she protested mildly.

"And I'm takin' it off." He knelt at her feet and gathered the fabric in his hands, lifting it as he moved slowly upwards, kissing her body on the way. His mouth lingered deliciously in her middle. Her back arched as she fisted his hair.

"Oh, why did I bother with clothes, anyway?" she whispered huskily, as the gown finally came up and off.

"I really don't know," he smirked. Then he walked her a few steps backwards, until her back was pressed up against the wall. _The wall that faces Snap's room,_ Poe realized, a malevolent plan hatching in his mind. He stepped out of his shorts, then lifted Breha. "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

Flexible and fit, she had no trouble with that, but gasped in surprise and pleasure as he entered her from that position. She put her arms around his shoulders and kissed his neck.

"Is this okay?" he murmured, gently rocking her.

"Uh-huh," she grinned at him, gasping. He really began to move, making the wall thump rhythmically. She felt him deeper inside her than usual, and she loved it. She moaned.

"Let me hear you, Brey," he encouraged. She cried out in time with his thrusts.

Three pounding knocks came from the other side of the wall. "Dameron!" someone yelled.

Rey looked at Poe in open-mouthed horror, and stilled. "Can Snap hear us?" she whispered.

Mission accomplished, Poe put her down and half-carried, half-walked her back to the bed. He lowered them both onto the sheets, his hands holding him up so that he could watch her from above. Her beautiful face stared up at him, her brown eyes on his, her lips red and parted. "Where did I leave off yesterday with my project?" He hadn't yet completed his self-appointed task of kissing every centimeter of Breha Solo.

"Second rib from the bottom, left side," she instructed with a smile.

Poe managed to finish kissing the firm skin from her ribcage to her belly-button—distracting himself by thinking about the proper start-up sequence of an X-wing—before his desire for her became unbearable. He kissed his way back up to her face before slipping into her again, this time softly, sweetly. He brushed the hair away from her face to kiss her cheek. They had all night; no need to rush.

"Read my mind," breathed Poe into her ear.

She shook her head no.

"Read me," he urged. His hands were on her backside now, angling her hips up, pressing her as close as he could get. "Do you know what I'm feeling right now? What I'm thinking?"

Rey was caught between bewilderment and passion. "You told me," she panted, "not to do that."

"Go ahead, I want you to. No secrets." He kept staring at her, kissing her forehead, her eyes, anything he could reach. He couldn't touch her enough.

Breha tried to open herself up to the Force. In her present distracted state, it was a challenging exercise. "You feel like…warmth. Like a warm blanket." She couldn't focus any more than that.

"I love you," he declared feverishly. He kissed her passionately as an exclamation point. "I'm in love with you," he repeated, this time looking directly at her.

She blinked.

And then the Resistance base's emergency sirens began blaring.

"Oh, you have got to be _kidding_ me!" Poe yelled at the sky. _If the First Order is invading,_ he thought viciously, _I'm going to blow them apart and win the war tonight._ With a pitiable groan, he gently pulled away from Breha, then ran to the closet to dress.

She stared at him worriedly as he put on his flight suit. "I don't know if…I don't know how love feels."

"You don't have to say it back," he assured her. "You'll know it when you feel it." Boots now on, he ran back to her, gave her a quick kiss, and left for his X-wing.


	17. Mothers

**Remember the alarm that was going off at the end of last chapter? Well, this installment starts there, and ends up somewhere completely different. I guess I'm feeling sentimental this week. Happy Mother's Day, everybody!**

* * *

"Three point eight minutes slower than the last pilot." Admiral Ackbar swiveled his big round eyes from the out-of-breath pilot down to his padd. "That is unacceptable, Commander Dameron. You should have been the first one to your ship, not the last."

Poe ground to a halt in front of the Mon Calamari. "This was a drill? A _drill?"_

"That is not the proper response, Commander. Why were you so slow to report to your fighter?"

"Sir," he said, slipping back into Republic formality, "I apologize. I…couldn't find my boot, sir."

Ackbar frowned, as much as it was possible for his species to frown. "You can pilot an X-wing with one boot, Commander. Your response time was nearly five minutes faster during our last drill. Even your droid got here before you did."

"He doesn't wear boots," Poe mumbled to the floor, then straightened up and looked at the admiral. "Sorry, sir. I'll do better from now on."

"You must." Ackbar turned towards Major Ematt. "I think Captain Wexley was right to insist on these nighttime drills. The officers need them as much as the soldiers."

 _Wexley requested this?_ Poe suddenly understood. Revenge for pounding their shared wall with Rey's rump. He glanced around, and saw Snap standing in front of his X-wing. He winked and smiled in smug satisfaction. _Oh, I'm gonna kill him,_ Poe thought.

General Organa stepped towards them. All thoughts of Breha's spectacular backside vanished from Poe's brain, hopefully before Organa could sense them. She said something quietly to Admiral Ackbar, then looked at Poe. "Walk with me, Commander."

"Yes, ma'am," he said obediently and fell into line one step behind her. She walked briskly from the outdoor hanger back towards the base. The comforting smell of jet fuel filled Poe's nose.

She noticed him walking a pace behind her, and frowned. Everyone was scowling at him tonight, it seemed. "You can walk next to me, you know."

"Yes, ma'am, I just thought I should, uh…"

"I left the 'princess' thing behind a long time ago, Poe. Really. Just walk like a normal person."

"Yes, General." He moved up alongside her and hurried to keep up. For a small woman, she had a surprisingly long stride.

Leia thought for a moment, wanting to explain things differently than Ackbar had. "There's nothing like being on a crowded underground base when you hear the scream of TIE fighters approaching," she said meditatively. "You look around and realize that most of the people you're standing next to are about to get killed. Then the bombs start dropping, the ceiling collapses, and you just run. It's probably much easier to be in the cockpit, in relative silence, responsible only for yourself."

They entered the base and she led him to the mess hall. "I need some tea."

"Tea sounds good, General."

She lifted one eyebrow and smiled a little. "If I'd said 'I need some brandy,' would you have answered the same way?"

Poe grinned. "Brandy also sounds good, General."

She pressed her lips into a straight line, but her eyes sparkled with humor. "Let's stick with tea. It's pretty late."

"Yes, ma'am," he said agreeably. "I'll get it."

They sat at a corner table, out of earshot from anyone else, and let the warmth of the mugs creep into their hands. Leia continued speaking. "When the First Order attacks us—and that's a _when,_ not an _if_ —they will have a few different objectives. Of course, there's the military aim, to destroy our munitions and ships and the base itself. But Snoke and Kylo Ren have a different goal, which is to kill Luke and capture Breha."

"Capture…?"

She looked at Poe with the same luminous chestnut eyes that Rey had. "Capture her, and turn her to the Dark Side. Snoke wants a new apprentice."

"Rey would never turn," Poe said confidently.

Leia looked down at her tea. "That's what I used to think about my son," she whispered. "If you hurt someone enough, torture them and confuse them and blame their pain on everyone but you…people react to that in unexpected ways. And Breha doesn't have enough maturity, enough mental defenses, to resist much torture. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong. But I don't intend to find out."

"Do you have a plan to defend Breha during an attack? That's why I was late. I didn't know what to do about her. But then Chewbacca was in the corridor, running towards my room, so I stopped to talk with him. One-sided conversation, though, since I don't speak Shyriiwook."

"You mean it wasn't your boot's fault you were late?" Leia said in mock surprise.

"Uh, no."

She smiled into her teacup. "I thought you were just busy in bed with Rey."

Poe stammered something intelligent, like "I uh um no uh," before being mercifully cut off by Organa.

"I'm kidding, Poe." She waved a hand dismissively. "But seriously. Our air power is the Resistance's first line of defense against a ground assault. But the X-wings can't take off without their squadron leader. And three minutes-" She shook her head. "Three minutes can mean the difference between Breha escaping on the _Falcon_ with Chewie and Luke, and stormtroopers capturing her. If you want to protect her, the best thing you can do is get into the air and start blasting bad guys. Do you understand me?"

Poe looked right into her eyes. "Yes, ma'am, I do," he said emphatically.

"Good."

He took a sip of tea and considered opening up to her. He'd always liked General Organa, since the first conversation he'd had with her. It had occurred to Poe that if his mother had lived into his adulthood, perhaps he would have had these sorts of talks with her.

"When the sirens went off," he said quickly, conspiratorially, "I had just told Breha that I was in love with her. Literally two seconds before."

Leia set her mug down, tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. _She has very expressive eyebrows,_ Poe thought.

"You'd never told her before?"

"No, not 'til tonight. Fantastic timing, wasn't it?"

She nodded. "Couldn't have been much worse. And what did she say?"

"That she wasn't sure how she felt. She's not really sure what love feels like." He shrugged. "I think she's waiting for a big wave to come over her or something."

"Hmm," Leia said noncommittally. "Well, don't rush her. She'll figure it out at her own pace."

"That's what I told her."

" _After_ the sirens went off?" Leia narrowed her eyes at him. "What am I going to do with you?"

"It was an important conversation," Poe said defensively. "And I had to get dressed, anyway." Realizing his misstep, he stammered, "I mean, put on my…boots." He grimaced. That sounded bad even to his ears, and he wasn't even Jedi-sensitive.

Leia crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. She shook her head slowly. "Okay, hotshot. It's a good thing you're a very good pilot, you know, or I'd have to get rid of you." She made 'get rid of' sound like a euphemism for 'murder,' which, knowing that family, it probably was.

Not knowing what else to do, Poe tried his best cocky-pilot grin on her.

"Don't flirt with me, Commander," she said flatly.

The grin was wiped from his face. "No, ma'am." He looked modestly down at the table.

"I've never liked brash, over-confident pilots."

He nodded, eyes still lowered. "We can be a pain in the ass."

At that, she actually giggled. He had never heard her laugh, he realized. He looked up at her. Her mouth was curved up in a smile, but her eyes still looked as sad as usual. "You're not kidding," she said lightly. She regarded him. "Breha's going to start wondering where you are, if she's not asleep already. You should probably get back."

"Roger that," he said, standing. "Thanks for the talk, General."

* * *

Two weeks later, Poe and Rey still hadn't returned to the topic of love. He didn't mention it again, and she was fairly certain she'd misunderstood the whole thing. But their relationship was still progressing nicely. Right now she laid in bed, contentedly sprawled across Poe's chest, arms wrapped protectively around him. She liked being the same height as he; it ensured that her heart beat near his.

"I love the smell of your hair," he whispered, his nose burrowed behind her ear.

"It's my mother's shampoo. I tried it when I first got here, and told her I loved it, so she gave it to me. Apparently it's made from some sort of Alderaanian flower. Very expensive."

Poe grinned. "Strange, I never had expensive taste till I met you."

"Well, this is _very_ exclusive stuff. My father used to go all the way to Coruscant to buy bottles of it for her. Or maybe for himself. I got the impression that he liked her to wear it."

Mulling that over, Poe pulled away from her hair. "I don't think you should use the shampoo, then."

"Why's that?"

Poe pulled her to his side so that they faced each other. "It's your mother's."

"Yes," Rey said hesitantly.

"I don't want to know her…that way. It's too personal, you know? The scent of Leia Organa's hair, that's a secret your father should've taken to the grave with him."

She blinked. That hadn't occurred to her, but she understood Poe's point. "Why do you think she gave it to me, then?"

He shrugged. "Maybe the romantic association of shampoo and Solo is too painful for her now. The part of the brain where smells are processed is right next to where memories are stored, which is why smells can trigger such sharp memories for us."

"You're talking about science again," she warned playfully. "You know what that does to me."

"Or," Poe went on, ignoring Rey's lustful look, "maybe she just lent you her shampoo because she didn't have any other kind. In any case, I like the idea of you having a special scent that I chose for you. But not this one. Why don't I go back to Naboo and buy you something?"

"No, not Naboo."

"It's a very nice planet, Brey. Totally peaceful." He paused. "Usually. I'll take my X-wing; nobody's tracking her like they are the _Falcon."_ He kissed her hand. "Okay?"

She liked the idea of having a unique, sexy smell, but balked at the idea of Poe setting foot on that planet again. Still, he could probably take care of himself…probably. Inspiration came. "Could you take Chewie along, as a wingman?"

"Sure," he said gently. Anything to soothe her worries. "Can he fit in an X-wing?"

Rey gave him a don't-be-stupid look. "No."

"Maybe I'll ask Master Skywalker, then. He might enjoy a little outing in a T-70. If you think he's a good enough bodyguard for me."

Rey smiled, wrinkling her nose, and pulled him close to her. "Yeah, he'll do."

* * *

"Mommy?" he called, waking Breha up. "I'll talk to you. I'm sorry."

She looked at him quizzically. "Poe, it's all right," she soothed, stroking his hair. "I'm here with you."

"You're not gonna leave?"

"No," she confirmed. "No, I won't leave you."

"I'm sorry. Your skin…." He sat up suddenly, wild-eyed. Rey's hand was knocked away.

She touched his arm. "Poe?" she said gently. She'd had enough nightmares recently to know how to handle this one. Her hand returned to his face, fingers caressing his cheek. "It's all right."

Poe looked at her, steadied his breath, and touched her hand. "Yeah. I'm fine."

He laid back down with a sigh, then reached for his darling, his talisman. He held her securely, one hand around her shoulders and the other against her flat belly. "Would you like me to tell you a story?"

She turned her face to the side to nuzzle his neck. "Sure, I love stories," she said dreamily.

"Or should we just go back to sleep?" He glanced at his much-maligned alarm clock. "I'm sorry to wake you up at, uh, three forty."

"It's important to you right now. So talk to me. You were dreaming about your mother?"

Poe nodded. "When I was eight years old," he began, "I experienced the first traumatic event of my life." He held her tighter, kissed her hair. "There was an outbreak of Gordian Pox in our area, which isn't often life-threatening, unless your immune system is already compromised. But my mom had just recovered from a bad infection when she caught the pox, and so she ended up in the local hospital. I don't remember much about that, except I was mad at her for missing a big event of mine; I'd gotten some award for scouting, and my parents didn't go to the medal ceremony."

"You're an excellent scout. And you construct great tents," Rey murmured.

"Yeah, thanks. The training definitely came in handy with you. Anyway, my mother got worse and worse, until the doctors finally told her there was nothing more they could do for her. They just started giving her bigger doses of painkillers, assuming she'd overdose at some point and…it'd be over." He paused, biting his lip. "But she didn't want to be numb or drugged. She wanted to be completely lucid. So she asked them to let her go home.

"I remember lying next to my mom in her big soft bed. She's lost a lot of weight, but she had the sort of emotional strength that never shrinks. Her skin was covered with white pox, these ugly little bumps that had even appeared in her mouth and down her throat. They were invading her lungs; that's what killed her. And I…I knew she was still my mom, and I loved her, and knew she was very sick, but I didn't want to be in that bed. I didn't want those pox near me. She was trying to talk to me, you know, tell me how special I was and how much she loved me, and I kept moving away from her touch." Poe's voice broke.

Wide awake now, Rey kept her eyes on him. "You were just a little boy," she whispered. "I'm sure she understood why you shied away."

"Yeah, she understood. But my dad, he came in and saw us like that, with me practically falling off the edge of the bed while she kept reaching out for me, and I guess he didn't want her heart broken by that. So he told me to say goodbye and leave. I remember I didn't really kiss her, just sort-of brushed an air kiss above her cheek. And then I went to my grandmother's for the night. When I came back the next morning…." He stopped and looked at Rey.

"Go on," she encouraged.

"That's the end of the story. She was dead."

Rey turned over, so she was facing him from above. "Go on, Poe. Tell me the rest."

He gave her a sad half-smile. "You think there's more?"

"I know there is." She waited patiently for him to continue.

Poe realized that she was neither going back to sleep nor letting this matter drop. "When I came home the next morning," he repeated, "I ran to my parents' room, to see how my mom was doing. I felt really lousy about how I'd treated her the night before, and wanted to apologize. They were lying in the bed, arms wrapped around each other, pretty much like we are right now. My father was talking to her softly and stroking her hair. He didn't see the pox on her skin, you know? He just saw her the way he always had, strong and beautiful, sweet and peppy. She'd been gone for hours, but he just kept talking to her…kept holding her…."

Poe stopped again, and looked straight at Rey. He put his hands on either side of her face, brushing the hair away from her tearful eyes. "That's how I see love, Breha. It's not a big whoosh feeling that comes over you; it's just calm. That's how I want to love you. I want to be completely comfortable with you, so that you know with absolute certainty that I wouldn't shy away from you even if you were covered with pox or plague or bruises or belt marks or anything else. That I'll always take care of you and share everything important with you, good or bad."

Rey put a finger over his lips, and nodded. "Yeah," she said softly, "I get it." She was crying now. Crying for Poe's parents, bravely embracing in death; for her own father, betrayed by his own son and abandoned in a lonely abyss; for her bereft and brokenhearted mother; for that grief-stricken, guilt-laden little boy on Yavin; even for her younger self, marooned and unmoored, let loose among desert vultures. She cried for all the motherless children of the galaxy.

And yet, she was buoyed by the warmth and strength radiating from her pulsar Poe. He loved her, she could feel it. She trusted him completely, thus she was secure in the knowledge that together they could handle anything that life threw at them. It couldn't be much worse than what Destiny had already given her. Breha held no illusions that her life would be simple. She now felt the full weight of being a Skywalker and a Solo; she understood why Ben had chosen 'Kylo' as a moniker, a combination of their parents' names, an acknowledgment of that burden and privilege. But she believed that she-that they-would be able to make it through.

Poe held her wordlessly as she cried, unable to articulate any of this. And her silence was okay with him, she realized. Her nose was running and her face was splotchy, and he didn't mind that, either. They were, as he had said, completely comfortable with each other.

Breha wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I love you, too."

 ** _Finis_**


End file.
